


The Demands of Duty

by Reiya_Wakayama



Series: Duty!verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Kali, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Fingering, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Beta!Jackson, Beta!Scott, Character Death, F/M, Kanima Venom, Kate still happens but only to Derek and Laura's parents, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Magic, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Stiles, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Period Violence, Politics, Spies, Starvation, The Alpha Pack, Trauma, Triggers, War, alpha!Aiden, alpha!Derek, alpha!Deucalion, alpha!Ennis, alpha!Ethan, alpha!lydia, beta!Allison, beta!Boyd, beta!Erica, beta!Isaac, beta!Melissa, werewolf violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 58,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the threat of war hanging over them, Stiles and his people are caught in the middle and must chose a side before they get smashed between both and with the threat of winter and a bad harvest weighing them down, he must chose quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this you have the regular Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics and then werewolf A/B/O dynamics so sometime it might get confusing as to who is what. Werewolves follow the werewolf version and humans follow the other just to make things simpler, but both are compatible so they can mix with each other.  
> \--------  
> In response to wolfbite92, I'm going to go a little more into detail on the whole A/B/O werewolf/human stuff since it seems like some might be confused:
> 
> Stiles is human. Everyone originally from the fort is human. Argents hate werewolves so any that might have been living in the Argent kingdom have fled to either the Hale kingdom or another country. You have the werewolf A/B/O dynamic (which all werewolves fall under) and the human side. If a human gets turned, they usually stay that dynamic. Omegas are not like the show, they are like the normal definition of an Omega in the A/B/O dynamic scheme of things. I say usually though, because like in the show, a Beta can take the power of an Alpha in combat (I'm not sure if I'll include the whole "True Alpha" shtick). Those without a pack are either lone wolves (choose to be alone/kicked out/haven't found one yet) or rogue (have gone insane/power hungry/etc.) I hope this clears things up some more. Also, werewolves are not genderist or whatever the term is and exclude Omegas from fighting or anything, it's just, Omegas, naturally born from werewolves not turned, there are less then amongst humans and as werewolves, would rather fight then be left behind so most are fighting with Derek at the moment. XD  
> \--------  
> Add on: Pack hierarchy: You have the Head Pack which is the Hale Pack (the Monarchy), underneath them are all the other packs with their own individual hierarchy. While the Hales control all the packs, each Hale Alpha has their own personal Pack, so Scott, Jackson, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are Derek's personal Pack, but he can still controls the Alpha Pack (Deucalion, Kali, Ennis, Ethan, Aiden) as well. While the Alpha Pack aren't the only strong Alpha's out there, they are the most powerful political/money influence wise. Under them, you have the smaller pack, those made up of just Betas or with weaker Alphas as well as human settlements. While humans have equal rights with werewolves, many werewolves, especially the older generations tend to group them on the bottom of food chain which causes friction between humans and werewolves, thus creating the human faction that is trying to oust the Hale Pack from ruling and letting a human take control. And this has been our daily werewolf history lesson. XD

Chapter 1

“We have enough to last for the next week, if we stretch all the food to its max and there are already people starving,” Lydia informs him evenly, staring down at the report she has compiled of all their food stores. There isn’t much left.

“Give my personal stores to the families with children,” Stiles says, hands clenching on the arms of his chair.

“Stiles, you need to eat as well,” Lydia informs him.

“I’ll be fine. A few missed meals won’t hurt me. Besides, I’m a lot healthier than they are,” Stiles says, turning to look the only window in the small room.

“You know Gerard won’t be sending supplies our way,” Lydia says softly, writing something on the report and not looking at Stiles, but Stiles can see the tension in her shoulders.

“I know,” he says softly.

“And with the Triskel forces camped outside our wall in siege, we are sitting ducks,” Lydia tells him, standing up to pace.

“I know,” Stiles says and sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes in exhaustion.

“We need to make a decision soon, before it is too late. You know I will side with whatever choice you make,” Lydia says coming to stand in front of her cousin and smiling sadly.

“I know,” he says grabs her hand in gratitude.

~*~

The wind on the top of the wall whips around them, bringing pink to their cheeks. On the other side of the wall, an army camps waiting out the stalemate that they have come to. Stiles shivers, pulling his cloak tighter about his frame.

“Allison,” he says softly and his guardswoman steps forward, bow in hand to draw back. On the arrow’s shaft, a letter of declaration is tied with a white ribbon of truce. Nodding his head, she fires it and it sails through the air to embed itself in the ground thirty paces from the encroaching army.

They wait and watch as a soldier comes running up to snatch the arrow and disappear with it back into the vast camp. Stiles, Allison and Lydia step back from the wall to a more sheltered position, waiting for an answer to their declaration.

An hour later has a horn blaring, signaling the approach of someone. The three stand and walk back to their original position, watching the approach of a small group of soldiers. At their center walk three people, their colors of nobility flying above them, with the white ribbon of truce.

Stiles stand on the wall, ridged as they stop in shouting distance from the wall, just outside of the moat circling their fort. One of the three, a blonde with sharp blue eyes, walks forward and starts to speak, “His highness, Duke Derek Hale, general of Queen Laura Hale’s armies has come to speak with the lord of this fortress.”

“You are speaking to him. I am Genim Jonathan Stilinski, son of the late Alexander Calesser Stilinski, who was the previous lord of this fortress,” Stiles calls back clearly, eyes falling on the central figure of the group. General Derek Hale certainly strikes an impressive figure in his armor and weapons.

The blonde nods and walks back to speak lowly with the general. Stiles waits patiently as they finish and Derek Hale himself walks forward. “Your declaration spoke of a willingness to speak of a truce. Will you agree to a meeting?” he asks simply, voice loud enough to carry up to them over the wind.

“I am willing. You and three of your choosing will be admitted and led to a room where we will meet and discuss a truce with myself and three of my choosing. Is this satisfactory?” Stiles calls back.

“It is,” the general calls back with a nod.

“The western gates will open in one hour. Be there,” Stiles yells back and at the nod of the general, retreats from the wall and to the stairs leading down to the main courtyard. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Stiles turns to Lydia and Allison. “Ready the meeting room and stock up the hearth. Inform Sir Danny that he will attend this meeting with the two of you.” Allison and Lydia nod and walk off to get things ready. Stiles hopes he has made the right choice.

~*~

His highness, Duke Derek Hale, and general of Queen Laura Hale’s armies watches the thin figure disappear from the wall. He had met Alexander Stilinski once, years ago before war divided the kingdoms of Triskel and Argent. Genim Stilinski looks nothing like his father but he must look a great deal like his mother.

Huffing, the Alpha turns away from the wall and the group makes their slow progress back to his tent. The guards disperse as he and his two betas walk into the tent. Isaac, his third Bite and current attendant looks up from where he is scribing the duty logs for the next week.

“A meeting will be taking place in one hour. You will be in attendance as will Scott and Jackson. Hopefully, we can come to an agreement and end this siege. This siege has not sat well with me,” Derek admits, settling into a chair and leaning back, running a hand over his face.

“I’ll make sure to be ready,” Isaac murmurs and walks off to gather anything he might need.

~*~

They’re waiting in front of the western gate an hour later watching as it is raised to admit them in. As the draw bridge comes down to let them cross the moat surrounding the fort, Derek braces himself. When no attack comes, the four werewolves cross and enter the fort proper.

The courtyard isn’t empty like he was expecting. It is packed with refugees, the people that the fort protected and who were forced from their homes to seek protection as the Triskel army approached. Derek can only stare at the sunken faces and hollow eyes. Filthy children hide behind their mother’s skirts, their ribs showing under pale skin. From what he can see, there are few men about and those that are, are either too young or too old to be of fighting age.

Clenching his hands into fists, Derek forces himself to continue walking. That a lord can let his people get to such a point is atrocious. If this is how the son of Alexander Stilinski treats his people, Derek isn’t sure he can treat with this man.

A woman is waiting for them at the main door to the inner sanctum of the fortress, her red locks shining against the dull grey of the stone quarried to build the fortress. “This way please,” she says softly, green eyes meeting his before bowing her head and leading the way.

Derek lets his eyes rake over the woman. It is hard to tell much about her appearance, the required amount of clothing a woman must wear disguising her figure. But from what he has seen of her face, she looks tired.

She stops in front of a door already open a few inches to let out some light in the dim hall. Opening it, she motions for the four werewolves through the door and shuts it behind them. Another woman and a man stand by the window, watching them enter.

A lone figure stands by the fire, back to the newest arrivals. As the door closes, Genim Stilinski turns to look at them and Derek regrets his harsh judgments earlier. Genim is a sickly pale of one who hasn’t seen much sun recently. His face is gaunt, eyes sunk in with dark rings under them. Derek looks him up and down and can see his forearms and wrists are too thin to be natural. He has suffered along with his people.

“Please, sit,” he motions towards the table set near the window which is letting in the winter sun. The four werewolves take their seat across from the four humans. Derek stares at Genim, eyes raking over the man. Pulling in a deep draught of air, he tastes the scents around him.

Weariness is the largest scent, that and exhaustion. Underneath it is sour stench of fear. But underneath that though is the faint scent of Omega and that is not what he was expecting. “You are not what I expected,” Derek admits.

“I’m usually not,” Stiles says with a small hint of a smile before his face smoothes over back to seriousness. “We have a truce to discuss. As I’m sure you have seen I did not have much choice.”

“Why has Gerard not sent aid?” Derek asks with a heavy frown.

Genim gives a humorless snort. “Why would he? We are a small border fort. So long as we pay our tithe, he cares not what happens to us and yet he demands that we send all our able bodied men to fight his cursed war. My people starve, Derek Hale and my king does nothing to help. Our harvest was bad this year. We don’t have enough to get through the winter and already a few have succumbed to starvation and cold. I had a choice: continue to aid a king who would watch us starve and die or go to you, a complete stranger, an enemy to the kingdom in hopes that you would offer aid.”

“You ask only aid for your people? Nothing for yourself?” Derek asks, surprised.

“I was born in this fort, raised in it by my parents and these people. I swore to protect them as my parents did and theirs before them. If it means I must posture myself at the feet of my enemy, then I will do it gladly so long as they might live,” Genim says softly, chin raised as he stares down Derek.

“I have orders from my queen. She does not want blood shed of innocents any more than I do. She would disown me if I was to turn my back now and I would hate myself as well. We have supplies aplenty to offer to your people now. In a weeks’ time, a new supply train is to arrive and we will divide it out to your people as well. All we ask is to use your fort as a spot to launch our troops. You would also be brought under the protection of my Queen and sister. Is this agreeable?” Derek asks, watching the Omega closely.

His hands are shaking slightly as he clutches at the arms of his chair. The three other humans lean in to talk softly with him and Derek tunes them out, letting them talk in privacy. He looks at his three betas. Isaac and Scott are speaking softly, eyes flicking between each other and the humans. Jackson is looking on with a bored interest, though the fine tremor in his fingers gives evidence to the emotions running through his head. Jackson came from poverty and understands what these people are going through.

Genim sucks in a deep breath, the other three now settled back in their chairs. “General Derek Hale, representative of Queen Laura Hale, we accept your terms and surrender this fort over to you in exchange for aid and protection to the people it protects.”

“So be it,” Derek says and motions for Isaac to draw up the declaration of surrender.

~*~

Stiles watches as the Triskel solders troop into the walls, bearing wagons of food, blankets and firewood. The army doctors follow to give aid and medicine to any who might need it. Stiles can’t help but sag in relief as his people are finally being looked after.

“Stiles, you need to eat,” Lydia says beside him, holding out a small loaf of bread.

He pushes it away, stomach feeling queasy at even the thought of food. “I’m not hungry,” he mutters. He can’t tear his eyes away from his people as they thank the soldiers who hand them food for their children and themselves.

“Stiles, you don’t look well, come back inside where it’s warm,” Lydia insists, tugging at his arm. Sighing, he goes to follow, the blood rushing in his ears, deafening. Black swarms his vision and he can only clutch at Lydia’s arm as his knees go weak and give out from under him. The blackness swallows his vision and he loses consciousness.

~*~

“Stiles! Stiles! Allison, get a doctor, now!” someone screams and Derek turns to see the red head from before crouched down on the wall, the brunette woman from before as well running down the stairs. He looks up and sees Genim passed out on the cold stone wall.

Derek’s running before the brunette, Allison, even reaches the bottom of the stairs. “What happened?” he asks.

“I don’t know, he just collapsed,” she says rushed.

“Go to one of my soldier, tell them to bring Deaton on my orders,” he says, pushing her towards the soldiers. She nods and rushes over to them relaying his orders.

Lydia is still crouched over Genim as he reaches the top of the wall. A hand to his neck confirms his heart still beats, even if he can hear it. “We need to get him out of this wind,” he tells Lydia gently. Carefully scooping the Omega up, he follows the red head down the stairs and back into the inner fort.

She leads him down a different hall than what he first went down. Opening a door, she leads him into what he can only assume is Genim’s bedroom. He settles the Omega onto the bed, his form trembling slightly. Lydia flits around the room, lighting candles and lamps until the room is bright.

The sound of running feet has the two looking up to watch the door open and Allison and another man steps in. Alan Deaton is his personal physician; a tall, dark skinned man which an aura of mysteriousness about him that often times vexes Derek to no end. But he is an excellent physician.

Deaton takes a look at Genim lying on the bed and his lips thin. “I will need privacy to examine him,” he says and motions for the others to leave. Derek complies but Allison and Lydia look on mulishly. “I will not harm him, but I prefer for my patients to have some privacy.” Finally the two protective women nod and step out with Derek into the hall.

Twenty minutes go by before the physician opens the door to let them in. Genim has been tucked under the blankets and the fire has had more wood added. “He is not well,” Deaton admits once the three of them are in. “Malnourishment due to lack of food is just the top of the list. He has been under a great amount of stress for a while now and it has started to take its toll. He will need plenty of bed rest and he will need to be weaned back onto food. I suggest that a bland broth would be appropriate for when he wakens. I will also send up some medicine to give him a boost against any sickness he might contract while in his weakened state,” Deaton explains patiently.

“Oh thank you,” Lydia says, sagging a little at the verdict. She walks over to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the Omega’s hand.

“I’ll show you out,” Allison says softly, leading the two men out of the room and shutting the door.

“Are those two related?” Deaton asks conversationally, walking beside Allison behind Derek.

“Yes. Maternal cousins. They grew up together. Lydia’s mother died in child birth and she and her father came to live here to be close to family. They act more like brother and sister though,” Allison says with a small smile.

“It is good to have family when recovering from sickness,” Deaton says. Just then they reach the main doors and the outside. “If anything happens, do not be afraid to call for me.” Allison nods and walks back into the fort as the two men continue back out into the courtyard.

“He is strong, that one, to last this long under so much stress,” Deaton comments softly.

Derek grunts in acknowledgement and they continue on in silence back to camp. He has a letter waiting to write to his sister about the recent developments and their newest acquisition. The two split ways and Derek is finally able to relax in his tent.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long. I've been working on a Teen Wolf Big Bang fic, but that is finished so here is a new chapter for you lovely people. Also working on the next one already so there maybe another chapter soon. Enjoy!!!
> 
> Also, thanks for all the lovely kudos and comments. I'm glad you guys are enjoying this fic. I plan to go slowly with this fic so don't hate me too much when there are time spans between chapters. I'll try to update as regularly as possible, but Fall semester starts in a week and a half and I've got a 5 course load so, things may get bogged down. :) The joys of going for my BFA in Animation but in good news, I get to play with a 3D printer. *bounces excitedly* All right, I'll stop rambiling and let you guys get on with the new chapter.

Chapter 2

Stiles isn’t sure what time it is when he finally awakens in his bed. He’s warm all over and can feel a warm body curled up next to his. A quick glance to his right shows red hair spilling across his pillow. Lydia is wound around his torso breathing softly.

He tries to gently disentangle himself from her but she just clings tighter. “Don’t even think about it,” she mutters into her pillow, looking up to glare at him with bright green eyes. “Do you have any idea how scared I was? You just collapsed on the wall and wouldn’t wake up and I just didn’t know what to do.”

Stiles' heart clenches and he tugs her closer, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it,” he whispers, petting her tangled red hair.

“So what is the verdict?” he asks softly after they’ve lain like this for a few minutes.

“Bed rest and slowly get you back onto food,” Lydia says, pushing herself up on her elbows to look down at him.

“Great, just what I wanted to do, lie around all day,” Stiles mutters.

“Stiles this is serious. You need to rest. The physician said you have been under a lot of stress and it damaged your body as well as not eating. Just take it easy for the next few days,” Lydia says with a pinched expression on her face.

Stiles sighs heavily. “Fine, but I demand something to entertain me. You will be bringing me books,” he warns.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “I’ll suffer in silence then,” she mutters but lays her head back on his chest. “I’m glad you’re okay though,” she says softly, clutching his shirt in a fist.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Stiles says just as softly, holding her closer. They stay like that for a while longer, relaxing with the knowledge that they made the right move.

Eventually though, Stiles stomach makes itself known, loudly. Lydia laughs and pushes herself up and out of the bed. “I’ll go talk with cook. She’ll know what to give you,” Lydia says. She runs her hands over her dress, trying to get out some of the wrinkles, but it’s a lost cause. “Do not get out of this bed,” Lydia warns and Stiles nods in agreement. She slips out of the room and heads for the fort’s kitchen.

~*~

It is four days later when Derek finally decides to check up on the Omega. He would have gone sooner, but between constant council meetings to hammer attack details and going over his troops, Derek has been strapped for time.

Still, when a lull comes in his busy schedule of running an army, he takes it. He heads for the fort from his tent. He had decided to remain in his tent with his men instead of taking residence in the fort. It is already full to bursting with Genim’s people. He won’t force a family out just for four walls and a roof.

What he isn’t expecting is for the red head, Lydia, to be standing in front of Genim’s door, glaring like he’s here to kill someone. “He’s not allowed visitors,” she snaps as he draws close.

“What, why?” he asks, confused.

“It’s personal,” is all Lydia snaps back at him.

“I’m sure he can tell me for himself that he doesn’t want me there,” Derek snaps back, drawing himself up to his full height and towering over the Alpha female.

“He can’t and I’m here to tell you, he can’t have anyone in his room right now,” she hisses back, chin lifted in defiance.

“And how long is this isolation supposed to take place?” Derek growls out, hackles rising at her tone. She may be an Alpha as well, but he is still a werewolf and she will not stand in his way if he needs to get by her.

“Five days,” she says simply, eyebrows raised at him, trying to give him a clue.

The wind leaves his sails and his slumps slightly as her words register. Five days of isolation from anyone and Genim is an Omega. “Oh, I…um…my apologies,” Derek mutters, flush rising to his cheeks. Genim is going through his heat and since he is unbounded, he can’t see anyone but family for fear of affecting anyone.

“I will let him know that you came to check on him,” Lydia says begrudgingly, still not liking the tone Derek had taken with her.

“I…thank you. I’ll be going now,” Derek says and turns to leave.

He bumps into the brunette woman on his way out, her arms laden with a tray of food and drink. “Oh, your highness, um Stiles is indisposed of at the moment,” she says with a small smile at him.

“So I have been informed,” Derek says. He frowns at the name she uses. He can only assume she is referring to Genim and he wonders if “Stiles” is a nickname between them. Nodding at the woman, he slips from the fort and heads back for his tent.

He’s not expecting to find Deaton to be waiting for him. “Ah, your highness, I’m guessing by the quick return that you have been informed of Genim’s…condition,” Deaton says with a small smile. Derek just grunts in confirmation. “I was afraid it might happen. Stress can cause an Omega to completely skip heat cycles, but once the stress is gone, the body seeks to reestablish bodily functions. He’ll be fine in a few more days.”

“Thank you,” Derek finally says. “Have any scouts come back with news of the Argent army?” he asks the physician.

“None so far. You will be the first to know when they do return,” Deaton says. “Now if you will excuse me, I have another patient to see to.” The man bows and leaves Derek to his thoughts.

He stares down at his sister’s letter that he still hasn’t replied to. She had congratulated him on getting the surrender of the fort. With a foothold in the Argent territory, they can launch attacks against their enemy. She had also said she was intrigued by this Omega that had managed to get Derek’s respect and wanted to meet him. He still isn’t sure how to respond to that so he’s put it off.

He knows he needs to answer soon but for now, he pushes the letter away and heads back outside. He’s restless and full of unwanted energy. He heads for the training area in hope to fight off some of this uneasiness.

~*~

Stiles finally surfaces from his heat after five days of no contact except for Lydia. He feels dirty, sticky and wrung out, but at least the ever constant _need_ is gone. Lydia comes in with a tray of some light food and pitcher of water. Stiles takes the goblet of water she hands him and drowns it in three big gulps.

He’s still thirsty but he scarfs down the dried fruit and bread she hands him. “I’ve got a bath being drawn up for you. Then it is back to bed to sleep for a while longer,” Lydia tells him.

“Yes, mother,” Stiles says in a high voice. He grins up at her. “Thanks, for everything.”

“Don’t be stupid, that’s what family is for,” Lydia says, kissing him on the forehead. “Now, up you get to get clean.” She helps him get out of bed and supports him through his room into the adjourning one. A steaming bath waits for him and she helps strip him and lower him into the bath.

There’s no need to be modest with each other. They grew up together and have seen each other at their best and worst. She sits with him as he washes the days of sweat and other fluids off. “Duke Hale stopped by,” she mentions casually.

“What?” Stiles asks, jerking and causing the water to slash.

“He wanted to see how you were doing, but well, you were kind of busy so I turned him away,” Lydia says with a smirk. “Now that you are better, you can see him to keep the werewolf from letting his Alpha side go crazy.”

“Oh hush you,” Stiles says, flicking water at Lydia. “I highly doubt he would be interested in me. I’m certainly not the most proper of Omegas. I mean, I’ve never been to court. I must seem like some uncivilized country person.”

“I marvel at you sometimes,” Lydia says, “that someone so smart can be so ignorant of themself. Any Alpha would be lucky to have you for a mate and I won’t hear anything from you against it.”

“Thank you,” Stiles mutters softly, pink rising on his cheeks.

“That’s better. Now, finish up so we can get you back to bed. You are still on bed rest until Deaton says otherwise,” Lydia says smartly. He quickly finishes getting clean and let’s Lydia help him out of the bath and to towel off.

She’s tucking him back into bed when someone knocks on the door. Going to answer it, she smiles and lets in Allison and Deaton, the physician smiling gently at the Omega. “It is good to see you awake and doing better,” he says with a nod. “At the rate of your recovery, you should be allowed off bed rest for limited amounts of time. And then after that, we’ll see.”

The physician sits on the side of the bed and takes Stiles wrist in his, feeling for his pulse. “Sit forward please,” Stiles does and he places an ear to his back, “Breath in and out slowly,” he asks and Stiles complies. “Good, I don’t hear in irregularities. There seems to be no lasting damage left over from your ordeal.”

“That’s always good to hear,” Stiles admits.

“I’ll leave you to your rest and check on you again tomorrow. Have a good rest,” he nods to them each and then disappears out of the room.

“All right, sleep time,” Lydia says, coming forward to push him back onto the bed and pulling his blanket up. Stiles doesn’t protest. The food and the warm bath have made him tired. “I’ll be across the hall if you need anything,” she tells him and he nods as sleep comes back over him. He’s asleep before his door even closes behind the two women.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter to make everyone happy. longer than the last.
> 
> Warning for Derek FEELS.

Chapter 3

_Derek smiles as the Lady Katelyn Argent steps down from her carriage, helped by the footman. Her blonde locks gleam in the sunlight and Derek can’t help but be captivated by it. She is here as a diplomat of King Gerard Argent, his daughter, though not his heir. That would be her brother, Christopher Argent. Derek is the only one here to greet her._

_He will be her escort into the court to present her to his mother, the Queen and her consort as well as Laura, his sister and heir to the throne. As she finishes her step down, Derek comes forward to bow to her. “My lady,” he says._

_“Your highness,” she says, offering a slim pale hand adorned with only a silver ring set with small ruby. He kisses her hand avoiding the ring. He wonders if she realizes the significance of wearing silver in a kingdom ruled by werewolves._

_She smiles at him as he straitening from his bow. He catches a flash of light striking metal and sees a silver pendent handing from a chain. It is the crest of the Argent line. The irony of the family crest bearing a wolf is not lost on him. The Argents are not known for their love of werewolves but this meeting, one of hopeful and lasting peace, will perhaps lead to the road of a better future._

_“Shall we?” he asks, offering his arm to her._

_“Of course,” she smiles prettily up at him, her lips painted a bloody red. He leads her up the steps into the palace, not knowing that this is only the beginning of something that he will regret for the rest of his life._

~*~

Derek glares up at his tent’s ceiling. He hasn’t dreamed of Kate in a long time. But even though he hasn’t thought of her in a long time, his burning hatred of that woman still lives in his chest, banked but ready to burst into a flaming inferno. If he ever gets close enough to her, he will rip her throat out with relish.

Sighing, Derek pushes himself up from his slumped position at his writing table. He stretches, trying to work the kinks out from such an unnatural sleeping position. He’s surprised Isaac hadn’t come in to shoo him to bed.

Glancing around, he sees why the Beta hadn’t come to put him to bed. The werewolf is also asleep, slumped over his own table, quill still held in lax fingers, and soft snores escaping from parted lips. Smiling at such a peaceful expression on his Beta’s face, Derek pushes his chair back and walks over to the sleeping boy.

“Isaac,” Derek whispers, shaking his shoulder gently.

Isaac jerks up, breathing heavily and glancing around in obvious fright. “Easy, Isaac, it’s just me. We fell asleep at out work. Come on, off to bed,” Derek says, forcing the spike of anger at Isaac’s reaction to his wakening. If Derek hadn’t already killed Isaac’s father, he would do it all over again for the damage he had wrought on such a kind boy.

Isaac nods slowly and pushes himself up to stumble out of Derek’s tent to his own smaller one next to it. Sighing, Derek scrubs his hands over his face, callouses scraping over his scruff. He needs to get at least a few more hours sleep before he can function properly. He’s not sure he wants to sleep if it means having more dreams about Kate.

Grunting, Derek steps into his sleeping area and tugs off his shirt. In three days’ time, he and half his men will be marching out to fight the first battle with Gerard and his men. He needs sleep now if he’s going to be getting little in the coming days.

Stripped down to his small clothes, Derek slips under his blankets on his army cot. The only difference between the cot and the ones his men are sleeping in is the quality. Sighing, Derek turns the lamp next to his bed down, the little flame flickering and casting shifting shadows across the walls of his tent. Hopefully, he won’t have any more dreams of the past.

~*~

_She’s an Alpha, he knows that much. He shouldn’t be drawn to her. Yet her smile, the pale line of her neck, the gentle sway of her hips, they all seem to entice him. Her laugh is like bells and he tries to make her smile as much as possible._

_Laura just complains about how much she, in Gerard’s name, is demanding for this truce to work. Derek hasn’t really been paying attention to all that has been happening behind closed doors in the council chambers._

_As head of both the Royal guard and the knights, he’s kept busy seeing to them and making sure everything runs smoothly while also running training. Of course, on days off from meetings, Katelyn, "call me Kate, please," comes to watch them train._

_Derek can’t help but show off, trying to impress her with his prowess and ability. He feels a swelling of pride when she laughs and claps as he takes down another Beta. Her smile is always striking, white against the red of her lips that she always paints them._

_It’s been a month since she arrived when she kisses him. Just a chaste kiss on the lips, but it has him soaring over the moon. His inner wolf still doesn’t trust her, but Derek ignores him. He’ll come around to her. How could he not love someone so beautiful?_

_After that, they share secret kisses whenever they get the chance. In hidden doorways, shadowed corridors. Together riding, where he pretends to be her escort as she goes for a ride. He is happier than he’s ever been in a long time._

_Of course Laura finds out. She always finds out. She stumbles in on them kissing in an unused corridor. Kate pulls away, and blushing, slips away not looking at either of them. Laura at least waits until Kate is out of hearing distance before rounding in her brother._

_“What the hell are you thinking?” she hisses at him, frowning so heavily her eyebrows almost meet._

_“It’s just kissing,” Derek mumbles, not wanting to look at her._

_“That looked like more than just kissing. Derek, she’s our enemy,” Laura nearly yells at him._

_“If she’s our enemy, then why is she here negotiating a peace treaty?” Derek asks, growling at her._

_“If you hadn’t spent the whole time she has been here mooning after her and showing off and spent more time paying attention to the peace talks, you would know that we’re at a standstill,” Laura says back._

_“What?” he asks, shocked. When had that happened?_

_“Do you know what Gerard is demanding? He is demanding that if he signs this treaty, we must stop turning humans, willing or otherwise. You don’t seem to realize that that whole family is poison to us and they only want to see our kind dead. I mean it’s in the name: Argent, silver. Get a grip on yourself. Stop acting like a boy with his first crush and start acting like a Hale Prince,” Laura bites out._

_“You’re lying. Kate is different. She wouldn’t do anything to harm us. You’re just angry because you don’t have anyone to be with so you’re taking it out on me,” Derek hisses back, glaring, eyes flashing red. Laura goes to speak, but he overrides her. “Just do me a favor and stay out of my business,” Derek yells and takes off, away from his sister and her poisonous words._

_That night, they fall in bed together. He knows he shouldn’t but he does it anyways to spite Laura and her jealous words. She rides him, whispering words in his ear about him being a beast in bed, an animal and how much she loves it. They fall asleep in his bed._

_He wakes up to the clanging of the alarm bell, the smell of smoke and an empty bed. Kate is gone and so are his keys to the castle. Panicking, Derek dresses and takes off, searching for Kate and Laura and his parents to find out what the hell is going on._

_The smoke only gets thicker as he gets closer to his parents room. He finds Laura in the hall to his parent’s suite of rooms. Orange flames spew from inside, seeking more fuel to feed the flames. He can only stare in horror at the sight._

_Laura turns to him, eyes Alpha red, tears running down her face. She holds out something in her hand. The light of the flames glints off the metal of his keys. “No, no,” Derek whispers, baking away. He falls to the floor, back pressed against a wall as he watches the flames destroy everything in his parent’s rooms._

_Laura doesn’t say anything, but he knows she blames him. He gave Kate the means to kill their parents, to wound their kingdom. He let his pride and infatuation override everything, including his instincts about Kate._

_Now, they have paid the highest price. They both dress in black, sprigs of Wolfsbane pinned to their clothing. Their weakness but also a sign of mourning. On their coffins, before they are lowered into the catacombs, Laura claws a spiral into the wood. A sign of revenge, a sign that she will stop at nothing to avenge their death._

_The next day, she is crowned Queen. She is beautiful in her black gown of mourning. She stands proud, her grief hidden from the gathered people as they slowly pledge their allegiance to her. Derek, now next in line until Laura produces an heir, spends the coronation feast removed from everyone, not speaking to them, lost in thoughts of revenge and plans._

_They search high and low for Katelyn Argent, placing a bounty on her head, to only be brought back dead. But somehow, she escapes Triskel unscratched and unseen. Rumors abound that she had inside help from a faction of humans who hated the Hales and all werewolves but no proof can be found._

_Derek throws himself into his training and the training of others. The only time he finds peace is when he is swinging his blade, when his mind is free of this all-consuming hatred of both Katelyn Argent and himself._

_Laura has already called up the war council to start planning. They won’t be going to war this year or even the next, but to war they will go and Laura plans to see it through to the end. Spies placed in the Argent court report the Gerard also readies for war._

_For two years, Laura plans and supplies her army, calling in all the smiths and weapon makers to forge an armory to outfit nearly her entire kingdom, slowly draining their coffers. Derek trains the new recruits. More people than ever offer themselves to take the Bite, wanting to avenge the King and Queen whom they loved so dearly._

_Soon, Laura starts to include him in the war meetings. She shows him their map of the border between the two kingdoms. Their aim is a small fort nearly equal distance between the two kingdoms. It is just a lowly border fort. Reports say Gerard cares little for it, only taking taxes from it. He doesn’t plan on using it, instead using a fort further in his kingdom as a stronghold base of attack._

_The night before he leaves, Laura takes him aside to talk. “I just wanted to wish you good luck,” she whispers, bringing him close in a hug._

_But he doesn’t deserve it and he pushes out of her hold. “You know, I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me,” Derek whispers, turning away to look out of a nearby window._

_“Why would I hate you?” she asks, coming to stand by him._

_“Because this whole thing, mother and father, this war, it’s all my fault. I let lust blind me and it cost us,” Derek whispers, clutching at the stone window ledge._

_“Derek, it’s not your fault,” Laura says softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder._

_“Yes it is,” he yells, turning to look at her._

_“Derek, Kate tricked you. She used you. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. You aren’t to blame for this,” Laura says, drawing him into a hug. He clutches at her, tears leaking out. “And until you realize this for yourself, you won’t be able to find peace.”_

_“Maybe I don’t deserve peace,” Derek says, pulling away again._

_“Everyone deserves peace,” Laura says back._

_Derek’s face hardens, “No, not everyone. And I will make sure she never lives a day of peace in her life.”_

~*~

Derek wakes gasping. He can feel tears in his eyes but they don’t fall. He’d forgotten about that night. Grunting angrily at his show of emotion, Derek forces himself up out of the cot and roughly gets dressed. Growling, he buckles on his sword and stomps out of his tent to go to his morning training. Around him, the camp starts to stir as dawn approaches.

He spends the next two hours working, running through drills and exercises, fighting off entire hordes of imagined enemies until he’s dripping with sweat and his limbs tremble with fatigue. Finally though, he lowers his sword, gasping for breath, the anger and frustration beaten back into their cage for now.

Deaton is standing just on the edge of the clearing, watching him. He doesn’t comment on Derek’s early morning workout, just hands him a waterskin and says that one of their scouts returned with news. Grunting in acknowledgement, Derek drinks deeply and hands it back before stalking off back to his tent to change and speak with this scout.

Isaac jumps as he stomps into the tent, nearly dropping the jug of water in his hands. Berating himself, Derek forces himself to relax the tense set of his shoulders. He smiles at Isaac and continues to his sleeping quarters.

He quickly changes, calling out for Isaac to fetch the scout so he can talk with the man. By the time he is finished, the scout is waiting for him, standing at attention. Derek motions for him to sit and pours a goblet of water for the two of them.

“Speak,” Derek orders after taking a sip.

“The Argent army is on the move. They have already taken up residence in their main fort and are sending over ten thousand soldier our way. The last I saw them, they were a week’s ride from here. It will take them longer with such a large force,” he says and takes a sip of water.

“Good. You’ve done well. Go eat and rest,” Derek says. The scout finishes his drink and bows before exiting the tent. “Isaac,” Derek calls and the Beta pokes his head through the tent. “Send for my Alphas, we have planning to do.” Isaac nods and disappears, running off to gather the Alpha’s under Derek’s command.

They had planned to leave in three days’ time to begin with but with this information, they will need to make some adjustments before departing. Taking another sip of his water, Derek pulls the battle map closer to start scouring it before the Alphas arrive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have infected me with your neediness for more of this story and I just couldn't wait to put this up, so yay another chapter. That's what, 3 in a few days and over 7k words written. Thanks for all the love, also here's some new people added. Also a Danny moment since we haven't had one with him yet and of course, Sterek for those wanting more moments between them. Warning, lots of dialogue and feels and some plot twists. Enjoy!!!

Chapter 4

Deaton is just finishing checking him over when he finally asks, “Can I get out of bed now?” Stiles has been doing good, following orders and letting Lydia smother him with her Alphaness and general mother hen attitude, but he seriously needs to just move.

“I think you are well enough to have some exercise for short periods of time. Try not to overdo it, Mr. Stilinski. I don’t need you hurting yourself even more because you decided to push yourself too far,” Deaton warns him.

Nodding to the Omega and his ever present watcher, Lydia, he leaves the room. “Stiles,” Lydia warns as he throws his blankets back.

“Lydia, he said I can get out of bed and I am. I just need to see something other than my four walls and ceiling,” Stiles tells her. He pushes up from the bed too fast and teeters for a moment, the blood rushing in his ears for a few seconds. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded,” Stiles says, holding up a hand when Lydia starts to come closer.

The spell clears and Stiles continues his journey to his wardrobe to start pulling out clothing. He dresses as quickly as possible, pulling on the layers against the cold wind that has been blowing outside. Lydia’s been keeping him updated and it doesn’t look it will be snowing anytime soon, but the temperature has certainly dropped since he’s been confined to his room.

Tugging on his cloak, Stiles grabs Lydia by the arm and tugs her out of the room impatiently. He grins as Danny, ever on duty watching over him, falls in beside them rolling his eyes at Stiles’ enthusiasm. Stiles just ignores them and pushes the door open and steps outside.

He shivers as a blast of wind whips around the wall hits them. He pulls in a deep lung full of air and lets out a happy sigh. “Come on, I want to walk,” Stiles says and offers Lydia his arm this time instead of grabbing her.

Lydia sighs but still smiles, taking his arm and walking with him into the main courtyard. There are refugees everywhere. Many have started to leave the fort to go back to their homes, but most have decided to stay here until the Triskel forces leave.

Stiles has denied them nothing and allows them to stay, even opening two wings of the fort that had been unused for the bigger families to have a place to live. Stiles grew up with these people; he loves them as his parents loved them. They are his responsibility and he would do, has done, everything in his power to protect and care for them.

Stiles catches something from the corner of his eye and ignoring Lydia’s protest, slips away to go help the elderly woman whose produce has just spilled from her basket. “Here grandmother, let me help,” Stiles says with a grin, bending down to pick up a few potatoes that have rolled away.

“Oh dear, it is good to see you up and about,” she says, offering her basket for him to place them inside it. “You’ve had us all worried over you.”

“Well, I am doing much better, so you don’t have to worry anymore,” Stiles says with a grin, offering a hand to help her from her crouched position.

“We’ll always worry about you, son. You’re mother and father would be so proud of how much you’ve done for us. We all are,” she says, laying a hand on his arm.

Stiles swallows thickly, “Thank you,” his whispers hoarsely.

“Now go on, the two yonder are waiting for you. Leave an old woman to her ramblings and go enjoy yourself,” she says and pushes him gently back towards where Lydia and Danny are watching him. Nodding, Stiles makes his way towards them.

They finish their circuit of the courtyard, stopping to talk to someone every once in a while, checking on them and how their families are doing. By the time they near where they started, Stiles is starting to lag. He’s not used to tiring this easily and he grumbles the whole way back to his room. Still, he allows Lydia to push him under his covers and naps for a few hours.

~*~

It doesn’t take Isaac long to return, Derek’s Alphas soon following. He chose them especially for their position. The five strongest Alphas of all the packs in the kingdoms, they had the power to back them up.

Kali is the first to arrive, ever barefoot and smirking at him as she takes her seat. The twins follow, pushing and shoving each other and laughing over something one of them said. Ethan and Aiden are an anomaly even among the packs. Twin Alphas are rare.

Ennis growls at the two from behind them and they separate to let him through, all three of them taking a seat. Deucalion is the last to arrive, sauntering in with a smirk. Once the man is finally seated, Derek pulls out their war map and unrolls it on the table.

“I have been informed that the Argent forces are on the move, at least ten thousand strong. We need to find a place to make our stand. Someplace with an advantage,” Derek says.

“I suggest here,” Kali says, using a claw tipped finger to point at a small section of land a few days march from their current position. “It is a pretty large hill. If we take it before they arrive, we will have the advantage of higher ground.”

“We could place our archers on the back of the hill, added protection,” Ethan adds in.

“I would suggest placing a net of scouts placed not only on our flanks, but behind as well. There is no telling what Gerard might do and I would not like to have to face his army from two sides,” Deucalion murmurs, “Especially since we will be so close to here. He might even try to go after our base itself.”

“I’ve thought of that already. I am leaving Ennis and his company behind to protect the fort and also as backup to secure a retreat should we require it,” Derek says, nodding to the Alpha in question.

“Of course,” the man says.

“We leave in three days an hour after dawn. Make sure your companies are outfitted and ready to march. Aiden, have your mounted troops go over the horses. We don’t need any thrown shoes,” Derek says and the twin nods.

They spend another hour going over anything necessary, but eventually, they exhaust the topic and can only put everything into action. He watches the five Alphas leave with a sense of anticipation. He knows they’ve prepared as much as is possible and now, it’s up to chance. He can only hope it doesn’t decide to snow as well.

He can’t help remembering the many arguments he’d had with Laura over the timing. Fighting a war in winter is a terrible idea. With less access to food, blocked roads from snow, and treacherous footing from ice, it will be hard going. But she had argued they were better equipped than the Argents. Werewolves ran hotter and were better able to survive the cold, not like the humans they would be going up against. And they can last longer, are stronger, and faster.

So far the only good thing about coming now instead of waiting for spring is the fact that he was able to help the people of this fort. He doesn’t want to think about what might have occurred if they hadn’t come when they did. How many would have starved from hunger, how many would have died? Genim would have died, his mind whispers to him, but he pushes it away. He doesn’t need these kinds of thoughts right now. They have a war to prepare for.

Sighing, Derek stands up, pushing his chair back. Isaac is standing in the opening of his tent, shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for Derek to acknowledge him. Derek motions him forward. “Erica and Boyd have returned,” he says, wringing his hands. “It’s…you should see for yourself,” he whispers.

Frowning, Derek nods and quickly grabs his cloak, pulling it on and strapping his sword back on before following his Beta back outside and through the sea of tents. Isaac leads him to the medical tent and Derek’s stomach knots at the implications.

Erica and Boyd are his fourth and fifth Bite, two of his own personal pack and they’re hurt or worse. He barely holds the urge to sniff out where they are at a run and growl at anyone who gets too close to them. He is the leader of this army, he needs to act like one and not let instinct take over.

Isaac shows him to a small curtained off area. He can smell his two Betas inside as well as blood. Pulling the curtain back, he looks in on them. Boyd is sat on a camp stool, eyes glowing gold as one of the healers sees to the huge gash on his shoulder. Erica is seated next to him, hands fluttering with uncertainty as her mate is seen to.

“You were right to send the two of us instead of a lesser wolf,” Erica says, her eyes yellow with worry. “We weren’t even a day out when they ambushed us, a group of humans. I’m not sure if they were ours or Argents. They had silver tipped arrows.”

“Did they get the letter?” Derek asks them. He had made Erica and Boyd his messengers for his correspondences with Laura. It was a precaution against anyone trying to get their hand on any sensitive information he might write to her. It looks like he was right to be paranoid.

Boyd shakes his head and hisses as the healer finishes stitching his shoulder up. Silver inflicted wounds take longer to heal. When added with Wolfsbane, if the poison doesn’t kill them, the wounds can take even longer to heal.

“We kept them off and managed to escape mostly unscratched,” he says, letting Erica fuss over him by bandaging his shoulder up. “I have a feeling that that faction of humans that everyone has been whispering about is more than just a rumor. They knew where we were coming from and we change our route every time. Someone told them.”

“So we have a spy somewhere in our camp and no time to go through and figure out who they are,” Derek grumbles.

“It had to have been a human, no Were would ever go against you,” Erica hisses.

“That narrows it down, but we still have a large number of humans with us. It will be hard to narrow down who it was. And we leave in three days. Do you think you can do the searching for our leak?” Derek asks softly, listening for anyone nearby. At the moment, they’re alone.

Erica and Boyd both nod. “You’ll need to be discreet. We don’t want to tip our hand that we know about the spy. I want you to pretend there was no attack. Who knows about the attack?” Derek asks.

“The healer, the sentry who spotted us, our pack. We tried to keep a low profile when we came in,” Erica says, counting off the witnesses.

Derek turns to Isaac, “Find this sentry and bring him to me. And while you’re at it, find Scott and Jackson, I need to speak with them as well.” The Beta nods and rushes off.

Derek walks back into the main part of the medical tent. At the moment, Boyd is the only occupant of its many beds. The healer whom had seen to Boyd is busy organizing jars on a shelf. “I need to speak with you for a moment,” Derek says, coming up behind the human woman.

She turns and Derek recognizes her as Scott’s mother, Melissa. “Derek, I assume this is about Boyd,” she says evenly, not impressed by Derek’s status.

Derek nods, “We need to keep this quiet. We have a spy among us. Someone knew where they would be and inform the faction of humans against us about them. Do you think you can test the waters amongst the humans as well? As a healer, you will be less likely to draw attention to yourself with odd questions.”

“Why do you think this is a human’s doing?” she asks evenly.

“For the simple fact that a werewolf couldn’t. Any Beta or Omega cannot disobey an order from an Alpha and no werewolf would be stupid enough to attack two of my personal pack unless they had gone feral. They would have to have a death wish,” Derek explains.

Melissa nods solemnly, “I can ask around discreetly. See if anyone has noticed anyone acting out of character or secretive and sneaking around. Someone is bound to have noticed something.”

“Thank you,” Derek says with a nod.

Soon after, Isaac returns with the werewolf sentry as well as Scott and Jackson. Derek interrogates him about if he has told anyone else about Boyd’s injured arrival. He swears he hasn’t and Derek can hear the truth in his heartbeat. After ordering the werewolf to keep his mouth shut about what he saw, he sends the shaking Beta off. Derek fills in the other two Betas about what has happened.

“Keep me up to date should anything come up,” he tells his Betas. “I’m going to go speak with Lord Stilinski to bring him up to date about what is going on. We can’t rule out it being one of his people.”

Erica smirks at him and Derek ignored her wagging eyebrows not willing to fall for her baiting. Nodding to his pack, Derek stalks out of the tent and starts to make his way through the camp to the fort.

Derek makes it all the way to the fort and into it without being stopped. Except when he arrives at the Omega’s door, there is no one outside and when he listens, there is no one inside. Frowning, Derek heads back out, thinking maybe Genim has gone for a walk or something after being taken off bed rest.

Outside, he can’t see or scent Genim anywhere. “Are you looking for someone your highness?” someone asks at his elbow and he looks down into the weathered faces of an elder Omega woman, her face creased with laugh lines. “If you are perhaps looking for Lord Stilinski, you might be trying the cemetery,” she says pointing towards the west side of the fort. “I believe I saw him sneaking that way without Lady Martin’s hawk eyes watching over him. Boys, always such rambunctious things.”

Derek thanks her and starts to head in that direction. He’s explored most of the grounds outside of the fort and had come across the small cemetery tucked away in a corner. It is the burial place of all the Lords and Ladies who have commanded the fort.

He’s just rounding a corner when he comes across the knight from the truce signing, Sir Danny as he recalls. The knight looks up at his approach and nods, turning back to where he has been watching his charge.

Derek follows his gaze to the hunched figure in the center of the cemetery. Stiles is seated on a stone bench in front of two headstones. “How long has he been here?” Derek asks the knight.

“A while,” Danny admits. “His father died this summer. I don’t think he’s ever had a real chance to mourn his passing.”

“You care for him,” Derek says to him, looking back at Stiles.

“We grew up together. He was like a little brother to me, you know the annoying one that always gets in your business and follows you around. When I got my shield, Stiles wouldn’t listen to anyone’s suggestions on whom his knight protector should be. He said he would only accept me for that role. And I promised his father I would look out for him. He’s my friend,” Danny says simply.

“I’m glad he has someone watching out for him,” Derek says softly, the two of them standing in silence for a few moments. Straightening, Derek nods one last time to the knight and walks forward, making noise to alert Stiles of his approach.

Stiles glances up at him. “Oh, um, hello,” Stiles says with a small smile.

“It’s good to see you up,” Derek says, taking a seat beside the Omega, though he keeps the proper distance from him. “You had everyone worried.”

“Thank you, for helping,” Stiles says. Derek nods and they sit in silence staring at the two headstones. One has “Alexander Calesser Stilinski” on it and the one next to it, more weathered than the newest addition reads “Mara Agatha Stilinski.”

“He knew, my father. Spring was drier than usual this year and then in summer as well. When the rains did come there just wasn’t enough water to keep the crops alive. They were already starting to die. He sent messenger after messenger to Gerard asking for aid. Every time, Gerard sent back no. Oh he used more words about this and that being more important, but the truth was we were unimportant and his war was more important than his people starving,” Stiles ranted, breathing a little heavily. Derek doesn’t stop him.

“Then one day he collapsed from the stress of trying to figure out just how to make the stores last through winter. We sent for a healer, and he was put on bed rest, but…he just slipped away one night and I couldn’t save him,” Stiles whispers, hands fisting in his cloak.

“And suddenly, here I am, seventeen and in charge of all these people and this huge problem weighing over everything and everyone and I’m supposed to do something about it. I’m surprised I didn’t go like he did,” Stiles admits, looking up at Derek. “You saved my people your highness and I’m forever grateful.”

Derek can’t say anything for a moment, so he just nods and smiles in understanding. “I’m glad I could help. But I actually came here for another reason,” Derek admits.

“Of course,” Stiles says, sitting up straighter.

“We leave in three days to confront Gerard. I plan to leave Alpha Ennis and his company to guard the fort and our rear. But we have a problem. There is a spy amongst my people. Two of my Betas were ambushed by humans when delivering one of my letters to my sister, the Queen. They’re part of a small faction of humans against the right of the Hales to rule. The only way they could have known my Betas route was if someone informed them,” Derek says.

“And you’re not sure if it was one of the humans that came with you or one of my people,” Stiles finishes for him.

“You see my dilemma,” Derek says with a shrug.

“I know most of my people and can vouch for their loyalty to me and through me to you. They know you are the reason they and their families are alive. But I can’t vouch for everyone. There are some I do not know so well. I can send feelers out, try and see if maybe anyone has noticed anything,” Stiles offers.

“I know I ask a lot. Just know that I am not holding your peoples safety over your head to force you to do this. If you do not want to do this, our truce will not change,” Derek says.

“I know that, your highness. But it is something that needs to be done. If you lose this war, my life is forfeit and most likely, all my people as well for treating with the enemy, even if it was for a good reason. A threat from the inside can change everything in a battle,” Stiles says simply, looking him in the eye. “I will do as asked.” They are silent for a drawn out moment.

“If you will excuse me, your highness,” Stiles says and stands, pulling his cloak tighter about his frame. Derek stands as well and watches Stiles path back through the cemetery and around the corner out of sight. Sighing, Derek starts to make his way out as well, already weary beyond belief and it is only a few hours passed midday.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens. Here's another chapter. Not a lot of face to face Sterek, but well there's some hints for you guys to enjoy. Also, we find out just who our spy is and it's not exactly what you guys have been expecting. *grins evilly* Hope you guys enjoys and I am off to bed because it is early morning not late at night right now and I need sleep. I seem to write some of my best work between 12 pm and 1am. XD Good night and enjoy.

Chapter 5

The five of Derek’s Betas wait until the Alpha has left in search of Lord Stilinski before they start to talk. “You know, you really shouldn’t tease to Derek like that,” Scott says to Erica as the blonde helps Boyd get his shirt back on.

“Oh please, if I don’t who will? Besides, he needs to lighten up a little. He so serious all the time,” Erica snaps back, shooting a glare at the brunette.

“Guys, we’re supposed to be figuring out a way to find out who the leak is,” Isaac says softly.

“Oh shut up Isaac. You’re such a suck up to Derek all the time,” Jackson says with a sneer. Isaac growls back, eyes flashing yellow at the challenge.

Someone claps loudly behind them, making them all jump. “Enough, children. If you can’t behave then I’ll kick you all out,” Melissa says firmly, giving them all the patented parent look raised eyebrow included.

“Now we will all behave like civilized adults and discuss our current problem as Isaac pointed out. So, how do we find this leak?” Melissa asks, sitting down on a nearby stool.

“Um, I’m not actually sure. I would say Boyd and Erica could scent them out, but they never actually smelled the leak, only the humans who attacked them,” Scott says, scratching at the back of his neck.

“All right, what about asking around, seeing if anyone has been acting strangely,” Melissa offers what has already been suggested they do.

“That might actually be harder than it sounds,” Boyd says with a huff.

“How so?” Melissa asks, looking at the werewolf.

“There are so many people here coming and going. You have the main packs that came under the Alpha, but you also have stragglers from rural areas and people not in packs,” Boyd explains.

“And unless the packs are familiar with each other and their people, they won’t know if the way someone is acting is normal or not,” Jackson adds, butting in.

“We could have the Alphas go around to interrogate each of their people, but that would take time and we only have three days,” Scott also adds.

“And we can’t just up and point a finger either, otherwise one of the Alphas might get offensive about possible blame to themselves and their pack and if we’re wrong then there’s the alpha’s pride and the packs honor to see to,” Erica admits.

“All right, we’re looking at this the wrong way. When you guys hunt, how do find your prey? Do you look behind every bush and shrub until you stumble upon it?” Melissa asks.

“No, usually we just run and if it’s in our path we hunt,” Erica says with a shrug.

“Think like a hunter, if you’re trying to get your prey to show itself, what do you do?” Melissa says, trying to lead them to the answer.

“You flush it out with noise,” Isaac pips up, grinning.

“Exactly, you make them reveal themselves to you. So how do we make our leak reveal themself to us?” she asks with a grin.

“Well, they’re after Derek’s letter. But we gave it back to him,” Erica says.

“Ah, but they don’t know that. If we let slip that, oh not only is the letter still in camp, but that the reason Boyd and Erica returned was because they forgot something, not even mentioning the ambush, our leak might see an opportunity to get it themself,” Melissa says with a smile.

“If we say he’s entrusted one of us to watch over it while he is away, they might come to our tents looking. It would be simple to lie in ambush for them,” Jackson adds.

“This just might work,” Erica says with a slow predatory smile. “I say let it be me.”

“But what about me?” Jackson hisses, jumping up from his stool.

“Enough, children,” Melissa calls out. “The ‘letter’ will go to Isaac.”

“What?” Isaac asks, eyes wide in his face.

“You are the one most often with him and your tent is next to his. Also, as his scribe, you are the one who would know intimate details he might write in a letter,” Melissa tells him.

“But Derek writes all of his own letters,” Isaac says.

“But they don’t know this. From the outside for those who don’t know Derek, he looks like any other lord or lady who relies on servants and such to do things, including writing letters. All we need is to lure them to you. If anything, we can ask Derek to allow you to sleep in his tent, to make it look like you are guarding his things. You can have one of the others hiding out in your tent in wait,” Melissa says, adding to the plan.

“I like this,” Erica says with a bounce.

“And with any luck, we’ll have the leak before Derek leaves,” Boyd says with a small smile.

“All right, you five start spreading the word. Try to act casual and not give away anything,” Melissa says with a warning look to them. They nod and troop out of the tent.

“You are entirely too devious to be good,” Deaton says, coming from around the other side of the curtained area.

“Well, it comes with my dead husband being the last spy master. You pick things up,” Melissa admits. “And you’ve been messing with magic if none of them could sense you were there.”

“It comes in handy when I need to be kept up to date with current events,” Deaton replies with a smile. “Also, I’ve been to see to Lord Stilinski earlier today. The Omega is recovering well. Hopefully, that will ease our general’s worries,” Deaton says with a secretive grin. Melissa just nods and smiles. They both leave the tent to go their separate ways.

~*~

Derek is in his tent, going over final plans for the dawn of tomorrow when he hears Isaac’s quiet cough to get his attention. Derek looks up to see Isaac standing in the open flaps to his study/sleeping quarters. “Come in,” Derek says with a nod.

“Um…this is from Lord Stilinski,” Isaac says, handing over a small charm on a chain. It is a delicately crafted bird in midflight. “He told me to tell you that ‘it is a good luck charm to keep you from getting your head cut off or some other bloody dismemberment,” Isaac says with a faint blush at the Omega’s frank words that he has been forced to recite.

Derek can only smile and wonder when Isaac will get over this nervousness he has around Derek. “Thank you and thank him for me later,” Derek says and pulls the wide chain over his head. The little bird rests against his chest and he tucks it under his shirt.

“Any sign of our little leak?” Derek asks softly. He had been brought in on the plan and has given permission for Isaac and the others to do anything necessary to pull it off.

“Nothing yet, sir. But the message has gotten out. I’ve been hearing people talk about it all over camp. I can only guess they are waiting for you to leave,” Isaac whispers back.

“Hmm, most likely. When they are caught, I want you to send a messenger to me to inform me of it. Do not kill them or maim them too much if there is a struggle. I want to question them myself,” Derek says and the Beta nods. Derek sighs, stretching his neck out. “Go to bed Isaac. I’ll be up for a while yet going over plans,” Derek tells his Beta with a fond smile.

Isaac smiles back, “Good night…Derek.” Isaac shuffles off before Derek can say anything to him. Shaking his head at his Beta, Derek continues to pour over plans and maps, the candles burning low around him and if his hand strays towards the little bird under his shirt, there is no one to point it out to him.

~*~

The Betas were right that the plan would work. Only what they hadn’t anticipated was the message changing as it went from person to person. Somehow, between them uttering the baited message and the leak hearing it, it had been changed to Derek having entrusted his letter to Stiles instead of Isaac, though they do not know this.

Derek and his troops march out that morning in a solemn affair, the men quiet and subdued as they march to face the Agent army. Stiles watches the procession from a spot atop the wall, Lydia and Danny nearby as both guards and babysitters, or that is what feels like to Stiles anyways.

“You know, I’m feeling much better now you guys. I don’t need to be watched everywhere I go,” Stiles says, turning from looking out over the wall to glare at them. “You,” he points to Danny, “have an excuse seeing as how you follow me everywhere whether I’m sick or not. You,” he points to Lydia, “do not however. You can stop mothering me.”

“I’m not mothering you,” Lydia snaps, glaring at Stiles.

“Says the woman who won’t let me leave my rooms without being properly covered. Who has all my meals arranged and even tries to follow me into the bathing room. I’m a big boy Lydia. I think I can wash myself without your supervision,” Stiles says.

“Well excuse me for being worried about your wellbeing,” Lydia snaps turning away and walking off.

“Wait, Lydia, I didn’t mean it like that,” Stiles sighs, running after her and grabbing her elbow. “Look, I know you care for me and that I scared you when I collapsed. I scared myself. But eventually, you have to stop trying to protect me from everything. Please,” Stiles whispers the last part, pulling her into a hug.

“I hate you right now,” she whispers back but hugs him anyways.

“I know you do. But can I please sleep in my bed by myself tonight?” he asks.

Lydia huffs but nods. “If you need anything, just call. I’m across the hall,” Lydia reminds him.

“I will,” he nods vigorously with a grin.

“Fine then,” Lydia sniffs. “I know for a fact that you haven’t eaten breakfast yet so you could watch your big strong Alpha leave, so let’s go eat.”

“He’s not my Alpha anything,” Stiles insists, but Lydia ignores him and walks away. “Lydia, he’s not, so you can stop saying those things. Lydia!” Danny just rolls his eyes and follows the two, wondering when he became the babysitter of both of them.

None of them notice the person hiding in the shadows at the base of the wall, listening to them.

~*~

“Stiles, must we do this?” Danny asks the Omega standing across from him, practice sword raised and pointed at the knight.

“Yes we must. I do not plan on becoming some damsel Omega needing to be rescued by some big strong Alpha. I’ve been neglecting my sword work and now is as good a time as any to start back up. Now, sword up,” Stiles tells the Beta with a mock glare.

Sighing, Danny does as ordered. Although the swords are dull, they can still put a hurting on someone if smacked. Even with the padded armor their each wearing. Danny charges, forcing Stiles into the defensive.

Danny pushes Stiles, trying to trip him up, to make a mistake and open up his guard. Stiles lasts longer than the knight is expecting before his footwork falters and his guard opens up. Danny snakes his sword between his arms to have the tip come to rest on the base of the Omega’s neck.

Stiles shoves it away and brings his sword up, “Again.”

This goes on for the rest of the morning with Danny calling an end just before lunch. Stiles is sweaty and trembling with exhaustion, but he’s grinning brightly. Danny sighs, “You did better than I thought you would for someone who hasn’t held a sword in over a year.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says, taking a hearty gulp of water from the waterskin before handing it to Danny.

“We’ll start back up tomorrow and work on your foot work. It’s atrocious,” Danny comment.

“Thank you, Danny,” Stiles says softly, touching his padded arm.

“Just don’t embarrass me by forgetting everything and getting yourself killed,” Danny says before following Stiles into the fort to wash up and get into fresh clothing before heading for lunch.

~*~

It is well past midnight and Stiles is sound asleep, for once alone in his bed. Except something is disturbing his sleep. Blinking groggily, Stiles frowns at his wall, trying to figure out what disturbed his sleep. Suddenly, there’s a thump in the adjoining room, his small study.

He can hear muttering coming from inside. Slipping soundlessly from his bed, Stiles reaches for his practice sword which is leaned up against the wall by his bed. Pulling it soundlessly from its sheath as Danny taught him, Stiles stalks on silent feet to the doorway.

A dark lamp rests on his desk, its shuttered glass allowing only a little light out to see by. Someone in dark clothing is rummaging through his drawers, back to Stiles. He can’t tell the gender of the person, only that they are short, shorter than even Lydia. They’re muttering “Where is it?” over and over again.

Stepping forward silently, he raises his blade and sets the point at their back, “Who are you and why are you going through my things?” Stiles asks in his best commanding voice.

The thief meeps, actually meeps, and turns around to look at him, their hood falling back at the sudden movement. Stiles can only stare at the young girl standing before him. She can’t be more than eleven or twelve, her hair pulled back in a braid. She stands there silently, staring up at him in fear.

“Again, who are you and what are you after?” Stiles asks. “Wait, how did yo even get in here. There are guards and Danny is usually on guard part of the night…” Stiles pauses. “Lydia!” Stiles calls out, hoping his voice will carry from the room to her bedroom.

The girl tries to make a break for it but Stiles blocks her path. “Oh no you don’t,” Stiles hisses, grabbing her by the shoulder and forcing her into his chair. She whimpers, but doesn’t try to get back up.

Stiles hears his outer door open and then Lydia is stumbling into his study, rumpled and pulling on a robe. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“We seem to have a little thief, though she won’t tell me what she was after. I want you to check to make sure Danny’s fine and if he is, bring him here as well. I’ve got her for the moment.”

Lydia nods and runs off to look for the knight. It takes about ten minutes but she returns with the knight in tow as well as Allison. “Danny’s fine, but the guard on duty has been knocked out. Some sort of powder,” Lydia informs him.

Stiles frowns down at the girl. “Do you realize what will happen to you if you don’t talk? Not only will you get charged with thievery, but also assault on a lord’s guard as well as intended assault on the lord in question. At best, you will be put to hard, manual labor for the rest of your life. At worst, you’ll be hanged for your crimes. Do you want that, to hang for this?” Stiles asks, glaring at the girl.

She shaking, her thin shoulder shuddering. She bursts into tears, her face reddening. “I didn’ wanna do i’,” she says through her sobs. “I…I had ta do it or els’ Papa was gonna hur’ Jimmy and I can’ let tha’ happen. He’s my lil’ brother. I got to protect him,” she says crying harder.

“Shh,” Lydia says, coming forward to sooth the girl, sending a glare at Stiles. “It’s all right. Tell, me what’s your name?” she asks her.

“A…Abigail,” she stutters out, hiccupping now that she’s stopped crying so hard.

“Abigail, that’s a pretty name. I’m Lydia and that’s Allison, Danny and Stiles,” she points to them each in turn. “Now Abigail, what is your papa’s name?” Lydia asks.

“I don’ wanna get in trouble. He said if I told anyone, he’d hurt Jimmy,” she says.

“You won’t and we can protect Jimmy, but we need to know his name,” she says soothingly.

“H-Harris, Adrian Harris. He want’d me to get t-the letter ta the queen. Said i’ would help them with getten rid of th’ Hales,” she whispers to Lydia, sniffing softly.

“Why did you think I had the letter?” Stiles asks her.

“People was saying he left i’ to be guarded by you while he was away,” she says, her hiccups subsiding and her words starting to get clearer.

“Why do I have a feeling this is Derek’s Betas’ doing. Allison, can you go get one of them. They’ll need to know about this,” Lydia says. The brunette nods and rushes off to get to the camp.

“Abigail, I want you to know that you are not in any trouble. You have been very brave to go against your papa and we will do everything we can to get your little brother Jimmy away from him. But some one, or more like many some ones will be coming to ask you questions about where your papa and brother are. You need to answer truthfully, all right?” Lydia asks, looking at the girl.

She nods solemnly at her. “Good, Stiles, light some candles. It’s going to be a long night and I would prefer to be able to see.” Stiles sighs, but leans his sword against a wall and goes to do just that, using the girl’s lamp to light the candles.

Sometime later, they hear approaching footsteps and Allison and all five Betas come trooping into his study. Stiles sighs loudly as the small study fills up. “Perhaps we should take this to somewhere with more room,” Stiles says evenly.

Most of the Betas at least look chagrined at his words and they all troop out of his bedroom and head for the larger study down the hall where there are more available chairs. They bring the candles with them, lighting the way. Lydia keeps a strong grip on Abigail’s hand.

Once everyone is seated, Lydia still holding the girl’s hand, the story so far is explained quickly to the new arrivals. Derek’s Betas question her thoroughly. She had come with one of the companies as one of the laundry girls. She had been told to keep an ear open around any of the higher up Alphas and Betas and report anything she heard back to her father.

She had been sending messages via messenger bird in the early morning when people were less likely to see the bird fly off. She had heard about Boyd and Erica’s departure and their route when she had been hauling some laundry to another soldier’s tent. She had paused to eavesdrop on them. She had been taught how to slow her heart and breathing to go unnoticed by any werewolves close by.

She couldn’t show them on a map where she lived with her father and her brother, only that it was three day ride east by horse to the main royal road near Ennis’ territory. It was in a valley between two mountains and the forest was an oak forest the surrounded them.

Finally though, they exhausted her of questions. “All right, Abigail, we will give you a place to sleep. The door will be locked but no one will hurt you, all right?” Lydia asks. Abigail nods solemnly. “In the morning, we will talk with Alpha Ennis and he can better tell us where they are and then we will send someone to get your brother.”

“Please don’t kill my papa,” she says quickly, panicking. “He may not be a good man, but he’s still my papa.”

“I’m sorry, but that is not up to me. That will be up to Alpha Hale when he returns,” Lydia says sadly.

“Oh,” she whispers, shoulders slumping. “Okay.”

Lydia nods to the others and takes Abigail’s hand, she and Allison leaving the room. Stiles sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair and rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “You okay?” Danny asks softly.

Stiles groans, “Yes, but this complicates thing.”

“I’ll have to send a messenger to Derek tomorrow,” Isaac informs him.

“I know,” Stiles admits. “I just…I hate war and politics. Neither side ever truly wins and innocent people always get caught in the crossfire,” Stiles says tiredly before standing up to leave. “You may stay here if you wish to discuss more. I am going to bed.” The Betas thank him, bidding good night as he and Danny leave.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAAAAA! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out. Here's my list of reasons and excuses from most important to least as to why I'm so late.  
> 1- Life in general has gotten hectic (when is it not hectic?)  
> 2- School this semester has literally been crushing me under the load of stuff I need to read or write for my classes. (I'm having to write and print out at least one assignment a day for at least one class)  
> 3- I got a new job and that takes it out of me. (Yay, money means I can buy nice things)  
> 4- Slight writer's block and just a lack of spark. (I had to force myself to write this chapter. Sorry if it sounds forced or stilted.)  
> 5- The Sentinel series (I literally watched the first three seasons within about a two and a half week span I got so addicted to it. Sorry, but I am now a Jim/Blair fan )  
> 6- Laziness and procrastination (Hi I'm Reiya, I'm a procrastinator)  
> \---------  
> This chapter is kind of short and is mainly a background chapter. Sorry if it is too much info at once, but I was having trouble finding my spark (mental image of Stiles standing on my shoulder whispering to me) for this fic and I kind of fell back on this to at least keep it going. By the way, Stiles is back on my shoulder so I should be writing some more soon.

Chapter 6

“Bend your knees more,” Danny barks at Stiles as he takes his stance.

“I am,” Stiles hisses, trying to bend his knees more while keeping his balance and keeping his sword level with his chest in guard position. When Danny had said they would be working on his footwork, he’d meant it. They’d been at this for two hours already and his legs were shaking from holding positions for long stretches of time.

“No you’re not. You need a good solid stance because if you go up against someone more skilled, someone bigger and taller, they’ll just come up and,” Danny strides up to him and with a shove to the center of his chest, upsets Stiles and sends him falling to his ass, “You’ll end up just like this or worse, dead.”

Danny helps him up, “A strong stance can keep you from being knocked down and can keep you alive longer than any other fancy trick you could possibly learn. Now again,” Danny orders and Stiles grumbles but does as he’s told for once.

They progress slowly and by the time it is nearing lunch and the end of their session, they’ve even made it to exchanging blows, even if it is the same one over and over again. “Overthinking will not save your ass,” Danny says tapping Stiles on the forehead. “Your muscle memory will be what you use and doing the same thing over and over again will imprint it faster.”

“I know that,” Stiles grumbles but thanks the knight before they both head back to their rooms. Stiles is surprised to see Isaac waiting for him by his door eyeing the guard who is just down the hall.

Isaac looks surprised to see him sweaty, dirty and still wearing his padded armor. “You fight?” he asks, voice colored with surprise. He flushes at his outburst and looks embarrassedly at Stiles.

Stiles just laughs, “When I was younger, it was more of a means to get rid of my excess energy. Now, it seems prudent that I be able to help defend myself and others should something happen. Did you need something?” Stiles asks.

“Oh,” Isaac flushes again, “Well, the others are gathered in the study for lunch and discussing things and they asked me to extend an invitation to eat with them as well if you wanted.”

“All right, I’ll need to change first. Wouldn’t want to offend any sensitive noses,” Stiles says with a grin and nods to the Beta before disappearing into his room. He forgoes a bath, instead just washing off the worst of the sweat and changing out of his practice clothes. He doubts a little sweat will offended them.

Stiles walks into the study to see the Betas already there as well as Allison and Lydia. Stiles looks back to see Danny coming down the hall towards him. Grinning, Stiles continues in and grabs a vacant chair and sits down. A small feast has been set out of simple foods.

Stiles had forgotten what it was like to do this, to just sit with a bunch of friends and acquaintances and just talk and eat. The last few months, he spent more time eating alone and only a little, up to his elbows in books and scrolls just trying to find something, anything, to help his people.

Pulling a bread roll and some dried fruit onto a small plate, Stiles starts to nibble. He can feel Lydia already starting to glare, but it’s hard to break habit. He knows there is plenty of food for him to eat, but it’s like his mind is still stuck in “before Derek came” mode and he needs to conserve as much as he can. Deaton says it will go away after a while but Stiles isn’t so sure.

Stiles turns to look at the five Betas seated around the table. “Not to seem rude, but why are you here still? I mean, as Derek’s personal pack, shouldn’t you be with him?” Stiles asks, putting a slice of dried apple in his mouth.

Scott just grins, “Normally, we would be there. But he asked us to look into the leak and until he says to go to him, we must remain here. He’ll be fine. He’s got his own army to watch his back plus the other Alphas.”

“Oh,” Stiles says and frowns thoughtfully. “I know about the pack dynamics or the major dynamics of the lines of succession when it comes to the head pack and all, but…well, how did you five come to be a part of Derek’s personal pack, if you don’t mind me asking?” Stiles asks, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve.

Scott shrugs and glances at the others to see if they’re okay with revealing such personal experiences with Stiles. They all shrug or nod, though Isaac looks a little hesitant. “I was born with asthma,” Scott begins. “It meant that I couldn’t become a knight as a human as is the norm with most first born sons and unless I took the Bite, I would be stuck with it for life,” Scott explains quickly.

“My father was the Spy Master for the old Queen which gave him status and my mother and I also had status through him. My father decided that he was clever enough to work for both sides and fool everyone,” Scott says with a frown as he remembers his past.

“The Queen found out. He was tried for treason and executed. My father was not a nice man, but he knew there would be backlash should someone find out so he kept my mother and I in the dark about his dealings. That was the only thing that saved us.” The Beta rubs his chin in thought.

Scott shifts uneasily. “Our status was stripped away and we would have become servants for the crown had Derek not asked to take me into his pack. He was…fourteen when this happened. He hadn’t come into his maturity yet and couldn’t bite me to turn me. When he turned fifteen and came into his Alpha status, he asked if I wanted the Bite. I was thirteen at the time. I said yes and the rest is history,” Scott says, taking a sip of water.

Stiles waits for someone else to start up. Jackson sighs heavily but sits forward to start talking. “This doesn’t leave the room,” he warns, shaking a finger at Stiles and the Omega mimes locking his lips. “I don’t know who my birth parents are. My parents said they found me wondering around the forest by myself. They weren’t rich or even moderately wealthy, but they still took me in. But, I know what it is like to feel hungry more often than not.” The room is silent at the Beta’s words and Jackson shares a glance with the humans in the room.

“Anyways, I was fourteen when reports of a rogue Alpha reached our village from other villages that had been attacked. We were mostly humans there, so we sent for help from the royal guards. I was attacked on the way home from helping one of the local farmers with his sheep. Derek was leading the guards that came to our aid. He was the one who found me. He offered the Bite to save me. I said yes, end of story.” Jackson says with a huff and sits back in his chair.

Lydia frowns at the blonde Beta, her lips pursed at his brisk tone. Stiles catches her eye and shakes his head and she huffs silently but doesn’t say anything. Erica sits forward with an easy grin. “I was like Scott, born with a sickness that kept me apart from everything else. I would collapse often and shake uncontrollably,” Erica says with an uninterested shrug, like her past doesn’t affect her anymore.

“Boyd was my guardian and protector at the time and I befriended him. He was asked to watch over me and keep me from hurting myself when I would collapse. I got tired of being a freak, so I confronted Derek in court one day about getting the Bite. He said yes. Boyd refused to be left behind so he also got the Bite. It wasn’t until afterwards that we realized we were mates, but I’m glad,” Erica says and smiles sweetly at the other Beta.

Stiles smiles at the two mates as Erica slips her hand into his. As the room remains silent, he glances over to Isaac who still hasn’t said anything and who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from his clenched fingers. “Isaac, if you don’t want to say, you don’t have to. It’s not like I can force it out of you or anything,” Stiles says softly, laying a hand on the Beta’s arm.

“It’s not that,” he whispers, glancing up under his fringe. “It’s just, my story isn’t happy and it brings up bad memories,” Isaac explains.

Erica scoots closer to the Beta and wraps an arm around his shoulders. She whispers something into his ear that Stiles can’t hear. The Beta nods and finally, starts to speak. “My mother died giving birth to me and my father didn’t take it well. He blamed me for her death. He refused to acknowledge me. My older brother raised me when my father wouldn’t,” Isaac says and then takes a steadying breath.

“When I was ten, he died. He was a guard killed in a skirmish near the border between us and one of the other smaller kingdoms. My father finally started to acknowledge me. At first, all he did was make sure I had food and clothing and did chores. But he started to drink and when he got drunk, he became angry. He would beat me. We were on an isolated farm so there was no one to see me covered with bruises. He also started to lock me in a small closet for hours at a time as punishment.”

Isaac shudders and has to stop to take a few deep breaths before he can continue. His hands are shaking subtly and he clenches them tighter until the knuckles go white with the force. “I’m not sure why he left, but one day, he shoved me in the closet for no reason. I was in there for three days with no food or water. I was lucky though. Derek and his guard were making a sweep through the area, checking on the local farmers to see that everyone was okay.” Isaac seems to calm now that the worst has passed in the story.

“He heard me crying and scratching at the door. They got me out and took me away back to the palace. Derek ordered his men after my father to be brought back to court. My father was tried and found guilty and was hung for his crimes,” Isaac says, his voice coming out even and empty of any emotion.

“When I recovered, Derek offered me a spot in his pack and the Bite. I was only twelve at the time, but I said yes. I’ve been with him ever since,” Isaac says softly and takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

“Thank you,” Stiles says softly, placing a hand on Isaac’s arm again. “I know it was hard but I’m honored you shared this with me. All of you.”

The Betas all nod or smile as they see fit. There’s a knock at the door and the group startles in the breaking silence. Frowning, Lydia stands and goes to the door. A man in riding gear stands outside. “I have a message from his highness,” he says with a small bow.

“Come in,” Lydia says and steps back to let the man through.

The man comes in and strides up to Stiles. Stiles frowns as he holds out a sealed piece of folded parchment to him. “Why is he sending me a message?” Stiles asks, reluctant to take the parchment.

“He just told me to deliver it to Lord Stilinski,” the messenger says with a shrug.

Sighing, Stiles takes the message and breaks the seal.

_Lord Stilinski,  
As you seem to be the one whom has caught my leak, I ask you to hold the child spy until I return. I will question her then, but from what I have been informed in Isaac’s missive, she was a pawn in her father’s schemes. Please also inform my Betas to leave as soon as possible to join me on the battle front as they are no longer needed to find the leak. Your assistance has been much appreciated._

_Duke Hale_

Stiles looks up from the note to see all eyes on him. Clearing his throat, Stiles speaks up. “He says that I will retain custody of the child until he returns to question her and that you are to return to him as soon as possible now that you are no longer needed here,” Stiles says, folding the letter and slipping it into his inner pocket.

The five werewolves nod and stand almost in unison. “If we pack now, we can leave and make some ground,” Scott says. They all nod and troop out, bidding farewell to the humans.

Stiles sits still for a few seconds and frowns as his fingers drum on the table’s wooden surface. “Stiles?” Allison asks, jolting the Omega from his thoughts.

“It’s nothing. I want to check on Abigail and see how she is doing,” Stiles says and stands as well. The two ladies and the knight follow him from the study to head deeper into the fort where the child spy is being kept in a locked room.

Stiles nods to the guard at the head of the dead-end hall where Abigail’s room is. Stepping further down the hall, he hears a loud crash. Frowning, Stiles picks up his pace, quickly unlocking the door with his key and opening the door.

The room looks like a storm went through it, and in the center of the chaos, Abigail thrashes on the ground, fingers clawing at the stone floor, already bloody at the tips. “Abigail!” Stiles calls out, running over to her prone form.

She doesn’t react to his voice, breathing labored. He can’t see anything physically wrong with her, no marks or blood besides her fingers. He spies a chain peeking out from under her shirt. Reaching for it, he feels a sharp pain shoot through his hand. Pulling back, he shakes his hand out and reaches for the chain again. This time, he ignores the pain and gritting his teeth, pulls the necklace out from under the shirt.

A small clear quartz hangs from the chain, rough cut, and glowing faintly. “Magic,” Stiles breaths out softly.

“Stiles, wait!” Lydia says quickly, hearing his soft words, but she’s too late and he’s already yanking at the chain in a sharp tug that snaps the fragile chain. Pain engulfs his body and Stiles sucks in a sudden breath, bending over double as his hand clenches around the chain.

“Don’t touch me,” Stiles grits out as Lydia goes to grab his hand. “Fire,” Stiles gets out again. Danny heads over to the empty hearth and starts stacking kindling and wood into the grate. “Check…Abigail,” Stiles says, free arm going around his middle as the feeling of pain starts to radiate from his abdomen.

Lydia and Allison shuffle around Stiles’ prone form to pick the child up and put her on the bed. She seems to be okay, though unconscious. “Stiles,” Danny calls some unending time later and Stiles glances up blurrily to see a fire going in the hearth. He can feel sweat soaking his clothing and dripping down his face.

“Back up,” he says softly, panting. Danny does and Stiles slowly crawls forward, one aching inch at a time until he’s only a foot away from the growing fire. Holding up his burning hand that is clutching at the chain and stone, he slowly holds it over the flames. The fire licks at his fingers but the sudden sharp pain of the burn overwhelms the spelled pain on his body and he is able to uncurl his fingers and let the chain and stone slide into the flames.

The moment his hand is free of the chain, Danny is pulling him back, shouting orders to Lydia and Allison. Stiles is floating, unable to move but feeling each throb and pulse of pain in his body. There’s a high whine filling the air that is steadily building. Something pops in the fire and the pain flows away as if it had never been there. He can feel unconsciousness slowly coming over him. The last thing he feels is the pain in his burnt hand and Danny’s arms around him before he falls into darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you guys. Enjoy!

Chapter 7

Stiles comes to slowly to find his ceiling above him. He feels like he was pummeled with hammers. The sound of rustling cloth and soft footsteps reach him and then Deaton appears above him, a small frown marring his brow. “I find myself growing tired of meeting like this,” Deaton says stiffly.

“I don’t intentionally do this,” Stiles says softly.

“I’m sure you don’t, but that doesn’t mean you are not a trouble magnet.”

“What happened?” Stiles asks, frowning at how weak and cracked his voice sounds.

“You were lucky. When you pulled the necklace from Abigail’s neck, you transferred the killing spell from her to yourself. Had you held onto it for much longer, you would have died. The fact that you weren’t killed instantly is amazing in and of itself,” he says, using a steady hand to lift Stiles’ head up so that he can sip from a cup of water.

Stiles sips greedily until the cup is empty. As Deaton helps him to lie back down, he asks the first thing that comes to mind, “How is Abigail?”

“She’ll live. She needs a few days of rest, but there was no permanent damage,” he says and pulls a chair up to sit beside the bed.

The room is quiet for a few long seconds before Stiles speaks up again. “Why didn’t the necklace kill me?” he asks, turning to look at the physician.

“That, I’m not as sure of. There are a few things I need to look into before I can give any definitive answer. For the moment, just know that you are incredibly lucky to be alive right now,”  
Deaton says just as the door opens up and Lydia comes in.

“Good, you’re awake. Now I can kill you for real,” Lydia growls out and stomps over to Stiles prone form, throwing herself on top of him to hug him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she whispers against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says, hugging her back weakly. He still feels shaky and weak.

“My lady, perhaps you should inform the cook that he is awake and will need food,” Deaton offers.

Flushing a little at her unladylike words and actions, Lydia stands and straightens her clothing and hair before nodding at the physician and leaves the room again.

Once she is gone and the door is closed, Deaton bends down and pulls a small cloth bundle into his lap and starts to unwrap it. A small fire opal sits in the folds of cloth, sparkling from the fire light. “What is that for?” Stiles asks, ever curious.

“A means to test something,” Deaton says and motions for Stiles to hold out his hand. Stiles does and Deaton picks up the stone by the cloth and sets it into Stiles hand. The moment his fingers touch the cool surface of the polished stone, it lights up.

Stiles jerks his hand back, dropping the stone. Deaton, anticipating his movement, catches the stone before it can hit the stone floor. “What was that?” Stiles asks suspiciously.

“That was a test,” Deaton says calmly, wrapping the stone back up. “There is a spell on this stone so that it lights up to those with a potential for magic.”

“Magic?” Stiles asks in confusion.

“It is my main theory as to why you are still alive right now. If you have the potential for magic, then the death curse wouldn’t have affected you as strongly as it did Abigail. It would have given you time to break the curse. Or so I theorize,” Deaton says.

“And how will this affect me?” Stiles asks, frowning.

“At the moment, it doesn’t. Your potential is like a spark. Blow on it, feed it fuel, and it becomes a flame. Leave it alone and eventually it goes out. Whether you let it grow or not is up to you, but know that magic can change your life, both good and bad. You will need to think on this before making a decision,” Deaton warns.

“What were your other theories?” Stiles asks.

“Pure, dumb luck,” Deaton answers honestly.

~*~

Derek is sitting in his tent when his Betas arrive en mass. He’s still waiting for more scouting reports about the approach of Argent’s army. “Everything okay?” he asks as they settle on the ground or lean against his desk as it suits them.

“All quiet. Alpha Ennis has everything well in hand and there were no problems when we left,” Scott says with a grin.

“What about here?” Erica asks.

“Quiet as well. We still have a few days before they arrive, but I’m keeping everyone on alert just in case they send an advance force. No need to underestimate an Argent, they don’t do anything by half,” Derek says, a soft growl emerging in his words.

“We won’t let them get away with this,” Isaac says softly, hand resting against Derek’s calf, looking up at him with wide blue eyes.

“I know,” Derek says and runs a hand through Isaac’s curls. “Go rest and get your things together. We go to battle soon and everyone needs to be ready.” They all nod and troop by him, setting a hand on his shoulder and arm, scenting him and being scented in return before leaving. Only Isaac remains and he goes to set up his cot in the main part of the tent.

~*~

Stiles is still feeling weak and shaky when the first wounded start to arrive. He’s been removed from any sort of guard duty and Danny has forbid him from touch a sword until he is fully recovered and given Deaton’s seal of approval.

So, unable to work on the front line, he goes to the rear where the healer’s tent is situated. It is the largest tent in the camp, the room needed for those who come back to injured to heal quickly enough. He walks in and flags the first person he see whom looks like they’re I charge.

She an older woman, with curling black hair pulled back in a neat tail, her face looking impatient at being stopped. “Yes?” she asks evenly.

“I am forbidden from helping elsewhere so I come here to offer my help,” Stiles says simply.

The woman arches a brow at him, her brown eyes boring into his, assessing him and judging him, seeing if he’s worth her time. Stiles tries not to fidget under her hard gaze. “Why do you need to be useful?” she asks evenly.

“Because I’ll go crazy if I don’t do something. I’m not some delicate flower that needs to be pampered because of what I am. I can help,” Stiles says strongly.

The woman snorts but smiles at him. “I see. Those are some strong words from you, my lord. I won’t refuse help freely given. We’ll need every hand soon enough once the battle really starts. I’m Melissa, by the way.” She offers her hand and Stiles shakes it. “This way,” she says and leads him further into the tent. “Put this on.” She hands him a large smock to put over his clothes.

Stiles does as told. Melissa arches a brow at Stiles’ ever present shadow. “Will you be helping as well sir knight?”

“I’m here to make sure he doesn’t try and kill himself again,” Danny replies with a small smirk.

“I did not try and kill myself,” Stiles hisses, glaring at Danny.

“Boys, none of that. If you remain here, try to stay out of the way,” Melissa warns him and Danny nods in understanding.

Melissa leads him towards the back of the large tent. There’s a man, a werewolf, inside writhing on the cot provided. His skin is flushed and he’s sweating profusely. Growls break out and he keeps shifting from one form to the other, never staying to one for long.

“What’s wrong with him?” Stiles asks, stepping further in. He can feel Danny’s annoyance at Stiles getting so close to a wounded predator.

“The Argents are fond of poison. They use a mixture of three different Wolfsbanes. Two are common and we can treat them easily, but the third we can’t identify. It’s a rarer strand that slows the healing process and causes fever and hallucinations,” she says and looks him over.

“What?” he asks, fidgeting uncomfortably.

“You are an Omega?” she asks and Stiles nods. “You’ve heard of the soothing quality of an Omega’s scent?” she asks again.

“Um, yeah, but what, you want me to touch him or something?” Stiles asks.

“Just sit near him. If we can calm him down, then maybe his body can heal itself naturally. He’s our worst off,” Melissa explains.

“Okay,” Stiles says and takes a step closer. There’s a small camp stool near the cot and Stiles sits down. Almost immediately, the man calms, his breathing evening out and getting deeper.

“That’s good. Just stay for a little while so he can get deeper into sleep. He’ll start to heal now and hopefully, he’ll overcome this poison,” Melissa says and nods to the two before leaving to see to her other patients. The man twitches in his sleep and Stiles reacts without thinking, running a hand over his arm, shushing him softly until he calms and sleeps again.

~*~

The cries of battle are all around them. Men cry out and scream in pain, yelling battle cries. Growls and howls split the air and every once in a while, a mournful cry will go up as another werewolf is felled. Derek and his pack are in the center of it all.

It was smart thinking to keep his men on alert. His scouts were almost too late to tell him about the Argent army splitting into three groups to come at them from three sides. They were prepared to face them. It hadn’t been long before everything descended into chaos though.

He can feel Genim’s charm resting against his chest, the only cool point on his heated body from exerting himself. Parrying a blow for his side, Derek quickly dispatches the man. No need to get too close to their weapons coated in poison. Even a knick can bring an Alpha down and stop his healing abilities.

They find themselves in a calm spot, watching the battle around them. Suddenly, Derek hears something that makes his blood run cold. He turns and sees her. Her blonde hair is like a shining banner against the sky. She’s dressed in armor, sword in hand. She’s grinning straight at him.

He can’t control the wave of fury that overwhelms his mind. The wolf surges to the forefront, taking complete control. A howl is ripped from his throat and he starts forward, uncaring of anyone around him, eyes only for the woman in front of him. His enemy, the murderess of his family and the only reason he has left to stay alive long enough to see the life fade in her eyes.

He hears his name called as a cry of warning. A howl pierces the red fog of his rage. Whirling around, Derek sees Isaac on the ground, an arrow protruding from his back, blood spilling forth from the entry wound. “Isaac,” he calls out, crouching to get close to his Beta.

Derek glances back up, but where Kate had stood is now empty. Growling, Derek turns away from her and grabs Isaac, carrying him bridle style. “Scott!” Derek roars out, calling his Beta to him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my early Halloween gift to all my readers. An extra chapter this week + another cliffhanger. *Evil cackling* Hey it is Halloween, the time to let out our evil side.
> 
> As a side note, I have a lot of deadlines coming up in the next two weeks so I won't be updating anytime soon. Enjoy and Happy Halloween to everyone.

Chapter 8

Scott comes running at Derek’s voice, the others close behind. "Isaac,” Scott says softly, running a hand over his dirty curls.

“No time. Scott, Jackson, get him to the healers, they can help delay the spread of the poison and then get him to the fort. If there is anyone who can save him, it’s Deaton and Melissa,” Derek orders. “Erica, Boyd, with me and don’t stray far. I will return to the fort as soon as I can.”

The two Betas nod and Scott takes Isaac carefully from Derek’s arms. At the small healer’s tent, all they can do is cure him of the first two strains of Wolfsbane and remove the arrow. Already, Isaac is starting to sweat, the poison fast acting.

It is three days march back to the fort and a little more than a day’s ride and they’ll need to be fast if they want to save him. Grabbing the freshest horses they can, they ride off, Isaac cradled in front of Scott.

~*~

Stiles is in the healer’s tent again when he hears the yells from outside. He’s seated next to the same man who is slowly recovering now that the poison is out of his system. People go running by the small curtained off section and Stiles stands to follow them.

There’s a mass of people swarming someone and he can hear Scott yelling over them to move out of the way. For a second his heart stops when his mind jumps to it being Derek who has been injured enough to come here.

He can’t help the small sigh of relief when the people part and Scott comes into view with Isaac in his arms, Jackson right behind, their faces pinched with worry. Stiles feels guilty for being glad it is Isaac and not Derek but he pushes it to the side.

He runs up to help get people out of the way so they can get into the tent proper. “What happened?” he asks quickly.

“He protected Derek and took an arrow in the back,” Jackson hisses. “Where are Deaton and Melissa?” he calls out.

“Here,” Melissa says, appearing in front of them with Deaton behind her. “Bring him this way.” They follow her into a section deeper in the tent. She motions for them to set Isaac down on the wooden table set up inside.

“Stiles, stay by his head, keep him calm,” Deaton says, stepping forward. They work the Beta’s loose shirt off of him. His wound has been bandaged roughly, meant to keep the bleeding down but not able to stop it. Deaton turns Isaac onto his side and gently unwraps the bandaging. “An arrow, cleanly through. Coated in poison of course.”

Isaac whimpers and Stiles runs a hand through his curls, calming him down. “Can you save him?” Scott asks.

“He seems to be reacting rather quickly to the poison. Usually, they aren’t this far along until a few days afterwards. He seems to have gotten a concentrated amount. I…I don’t know if he can fight it,” Deaton admits, grabbing fresh bandages and deftly bandaging Isaac again.

“What about curing the poison? If we could find an antidote…” Jackson insists.

“We still haven’t found what strain the third one is. If we could, it would be a simple matter of obtaining some and creating the antidote from it. But, there are too many strains we do not know of,” Melissa explains, face drawn with sadness.

Stiles frowns as an idea comes to him. “Where’s Danny?” he asks, more to himself. Everyone looks at him but he ignores their looks. “Danny?” he calls out.

“Here,” the knight says, stepping into the room.

“You know the library as well as me, right?” Stiles asks. Danny nods. “In the back, in…in her collection, there’s a small blue book, third shelf. You know the one, bring it here please,” Stiles asks. Danny frowns at him, not wanting to leave. “Please, this is important and I doubt anything will happen to me in the next ten minutes.”

“Fine, watch him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Danny says and trots out of the tent back towards the fort.

“What are you getting at Stiles?” Deaton asks, coming closer to the Omega.

“My mother was an avid collector of books. She collected books on any subject that caught her eye. I’ve been through them, read them. She has a book on the various strains of Wolfsbane known. I don’t know why, but I think she may have had some friends who were werewolves. I’m hoping, we might find some answers in it,” Stiles admits. Stiles flushes, “Sorry, I only just remembered it.”

“No, no, that’s good. It might have something in it at least. Good idea,” Deaton says. “The most we can do now is make him comfortable.” The two weres look stricken as they carry Isaac from the examination room to a smaller room for him to sleep in.

Stiles steps up to Melissa, “That arrow was meant for Derek, wasn’t it? That’s why it was so strong.”

Melissa sighs, “That would seem to be the case. What I want to know is, why he was distracted enough not to notice the archer?”

~*~

Danny returns panting for breath and the small book tucked up under his arm. “Thank you,” Stiles whispers to his protector and quickly sits on the stool next to Isaac’s cot to start flipping through the pages.

“There are symptoms in here as well as effects it has on both humans and werewolves. What are all the symptoms?” Stiles asks, looking up at the two humans.

“Fever, sweating heavily, hallucinations, tremors,” Deaton lists off and Stiles starts searching. All eyes are on him as he reads quickly through the spidery writing on the thick pages. Each page has a detailed drawing of each plant with exact colors that would be hard to replicate.

“Gerard would have our heads just for possessing this book,” Danny mutters at Stiles.

“Gerard can jump off a cliff for all I care at the moment,” Stiles says back flippantly, eye never leaving the book and fingers trailing down the page and then flipping to the next.

This seems to go on for what seems like hours as Stiles makes the laborious progress through the book. Scott and Jackson pace from one side of the small enclosed space to the other as restlessness and frustration rise at their inability to help their pack mate.

Stiles is starting to grow nervous as he nears the back of the book with no sign of an answer. Suddenly, a word jumps out at him and he freezes, quickly reading through the page. Frowning, he marks it with his finger and continues to read. By the end of the book, he has two pages marked.

“I’ve found two that are nearly identical to what you told me. Are there any other symptoms?” Stiles asks, looking up at them.

“There is one,” Melissa, says slowly, as she recalls past cases. “There was often a slight rash around the site where they were injured, like they had gotten into some poison oak. It fades just before the sweating starts.”

“Still too close. Anything?” Stiles asks. “What about effects afterwards, for those who healed from it?”

“Most are usually weakened greatly for weeks afterwards and often retain a slight fever as well,” Deaton says.

Stiles searches again, “This one, this one might be it,” Stiles says slowly. “It is only found in the forests of this kingdom, and even then it only blooms twice a year, which makes it hard to collect unless you have multiple plants in one area. Here, look,” Stiles offers the book.

“This plant is new to me,” Deaton admits. “We should start looking immediately. May we borrow this?” Deaton asks Stiles.

“Yes,” Stiles says, though he feels a pang of worry that his mother’s book might become damaged in their search for the flowering plant. Stiles shakes it off. “Just try not to ruin it please,” Stiles jokes.

“Scott, Jackson, gather up some men and start looking,” Deaton says and the two Betas nod quickly, glad to finally be doing something. They trot out of the tent with Stiles book in hand.

~*~

It’s nearly dark by the time the two Betas return with the men they took with them. Stiles has spent the time next to Isaac, helping to keep the werewolf calm as fever and nightmarish dreams wrack him. He looks up from a book he had gotten Danny to go fetch when he’d gone to grab lunch.

They’re filthy, mud and leaves littering their hair and skin, but clutched in Scott’s hand is a small plant with reddish purple flowers wrapped in a handkerchief. Jackson carries a second plant as well, though slightly bigger.

“These were the only ones we could find in the surrounding area and it got too dark to continue looking,” Jackson says, handing the plant to Deaton. Scott hands his to his mother and extracts the book from his pocket, miraculously unscathed from what appears to have been the two Betas rolling all over the forest floor.

Deaton opens the book and studies the image next to the flowers by candle light. He nods. “These are the same. It will take me a few hours to make the antidote. Go get cleaned up. Isaac will be okay for a while yet,” Deaton tells them. Giving one last glance at their hurting comrade, the Betas leave to wash up.

“Stiles, you should get some rest as well. You’re still recovering,” Deaton says, coming to stand beside the Omega.

Stiles shakes his head. “I’m fine and someone needs to keep an eye on him,” Stiles says, motioning towards Isaac.

“I’ll be staying to keep an eye on him and when it gets too late, I’ll get him to sleep,” Danny assures.

Deaton nods. “I’ll be on the other side of the tent should you need me,” he says and heads off with the two plants in his hand, Melissa following behind.

Settling back down onto his stool, Stiles continues to read, pulling the candle closer to give better light. Stiles blinks a few hours later, surfacing from the book’s pages to see Deaton standing in the room, a small vial in his hand.

“Is it ready?” Stiles asks, standing, the book in his lap dropping to the ground unnoticed.

“I believe so. Now, I need to administer it,” Deaton says. Melissa comes in behind him. Holding Isaac’s head, Melissa opens the werewolf’s mouth and tips his head back a little. Deaton pours the pinkish fluid into the werewolf’s mouth. Rubbing his throat, Melissa helps him to swallow.

For a moment, nothing seems to happen. Then Isaac convulses, arching off of the bed. Before anyone can restrain him Isaac rolls over and pucks a putrid, viscous black fluid up onto the ground. “Wait,” Deaton says as they start to rush to the wolf’s aid. They watch as hair grows and fades across his face, the shift coming and going. Finally, Isaac settles, panting against the edge of the cot.

Deaton gently unwinds the bandaging and shows the Beta’s back. The wound is gone, healed now that the poison is no longer impairing his body. “It worked,” Deaton says, a small smile playing across his lips.

“Where am I?” Isaac asks softly, voice hoarse.

“The medical tent, you gave a quite a scare,” Melissa says, running gentle fingers through the Beta’s curls. “Everything is fine and we’ll explain in the morning.” Isaac nods and lets sleep take him back under.

“It would seem that your services are no longer needed at the moment, my lord. Perhaps now would be a good time to retire and sleep yourself,” Deaton hints, glancing at Danny as well to get the message across.

“He’ll go to sleep,” Danny assures.

“I know when I’m outnumbered,” Stiles sighs.

“Good night, my lord,” Deaton says, Melissa echoing him before they both disappear from the curtained space.

“I’ll be waiting outside, don’t keep me waiting,” Danny warns before marching off to stand at the main entrance to the tent.

Sighing, Stiles starts to set the place to rights. He pushes the stool back under the table nearby and bends to retrieve his book. He grimaces at the small specks of black gunk spattered on the cover. Hopefully it will come out and won’t stain.

He turns around and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees the hulking shadow standing in the entrance to Isaac’s sleeping area. The figure takes a step forward and the candle illuminates Derek’s form. He’s blood and mud stained, dark shadows under his eyes and it looks like he hasn’t shaved since he left the fort. He looks about ready to keel over from exhaustion.

“Is he all right?” he asks softly, eyes boring into Stiles.

“Y-yes, he’ll be just fine. He’s sleeping now and has healed,” Stiles says, taking a step forward. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Derek sighs and starts to nod and then starts to tip forward, pitching into Stiles and sending them both to the ground. Stiles lets out a grunt as Derek’s full weight lands on him. “Derek, Derek, come on, don’t do this,” Stiles hisses at him, hand reaching out to touch his side. It comes away red.

“Damn, Danny, Deaton, Melissa, get in here now!” Stiles calls out, hoping someone will hear him. Derek still lies motionless in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally progressing further. Yay, and I had a bunch of new scenes pop in my head the other day that I can't wait to write.
> 
> Also, if there are any other scenes you want me to write/elaborate on, just leave a comment and I'll post it on the "Deleted Scenes" fic I have up.
> 
> Enjoy.

Chapter 9

Soft breathing greets him as he surfaces into the land of the waking. He feels…he’s not sure. He knows there’s pain, but it seems distant at the moment. He doesn’t want to move though in case moving causes the pain to come to the forefront.

Opening his eyes, Derek looks up at the tent above him. He can hear murmurs coming from other parts of it and he knows he’s back at the fort in the medical tent, though he can’t really recall getting here. The scuff of a boot has him glancing over to see Melissa standing in the entrance to the room.

Derek goes to speak but Melissa holds up a finger to her lips motioning to his right. Derek glances over to see Genim asleep on a cot. “We finally got him to go to sleep, but he refused to leave until he was sure you were okay,” Melissa whispers, smiling.

“What happened?” Derek asks and his voice comes out gravelly, throat and mouth bone dry.

“You must have gotten cut sometime during the battle and didn’t notice it. It stopped your healing and poisoned you. You rode all the way back here to check on Isaac but by the time you got here, you were nearly delirious with fever and had lost a lot of blood. You were lucky,” Melissa scolds him.

“How is Isaac?” Derek asks. He tries to sit up, but Melissa presses down on his shoulder. It’s a testament to how weak he is that she can do it easily.

“Rest,” she tells him. “Isaac is up and worrying over you at the moment. You gave us all quite a scare. Now you will lay here and rest. Deaton will be coming to check on you shortly.”

Nodding, Derek lies there as she messes around in the tent for a moment. She pulls the blanket higher up on Genim’s cot and then nodding to Derek one last time, she leaves. The even breathing of the Omega and the soothing scent coming off of him has Derek starting to drift and he’s almost asleep again when Deaton arrive.

Shaking off the sleep, he looks at the physician. “Are you two in a contest to drive me insane?” Deaton asks evenly, leveling a glare at the Alpha. “Because at this rate, one of you is going to make me snap.”

“I don’t do this on purpose,” Derek grumbles, glaring back.

“Funny, Lord Stilinski said those exact same words,” Deaton says with a smirk and Derek just huffs in annoyance.

“Can I get up?” Derek asks instead of retorting.

“Not for a few more hours. Your wounds have healed, but you are going to be weak for some time yet and you may have some lingering pain. I would suggest resting until tomorrow morning to give you time to completely heal,” Deaton says.

“How am I this healed?” Derek asks in confusion. He should still be fighting the poison.

“You actually have him to thank,” Deaton says, looking at Genim asleep on the cot. “He helped us discover what the third strain of Wolfsbane was and where to look for it. I’ve had men scouring the area looking for any of the plants and bringing them back alive so that we can grow more.”

“That’s good,” Derek says, looking down at the Omega.

“I think it is time to get him into a real bed,” Deaton says with a sigh and steps outside quickly. He returns with the knight in tow.

Danny steps up to the cot and kneels down to gently shake is shoulder. “Stiles,” Danny says softly.

Stiles stir slowly and then jerks u right, blinking owlishly at Danny’s face. “What?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes.

“Come on, it’s time to go to bed,” Danny says, gripping his arm gently to start helping him up.

“But Derek,” Stiles starts.

“Is awake and will be just fine,” Derek says softly with a small smile.

“Oh, um…,” Stiles says and flushes a little. “Okay,” Stiles says, letting Danny pull him up. Stiles glances at Derek one more time before following Danny from the room. Deaton remains for a few minutes more, checking over Derek before also leaving.

Derek sighs and relaxes back into the cot, trying to find that point from before just on the verge of sleep, but the room is too quiet to find sleep again.

~*~

A few hours pass and the sun is starting to set judging by the light on the tent when his Betas arrive. He’s awake, since he couldn’t find sleep again, and he motions them in. They crowd in, pressing close reassuring themselves that he’s alive and will be for some time yet.

“Where are Boyd and Erica?” Scott asks sometime later, face pressed against Derek’s shoulder, just breathing the Alpha in.

“I left them back at the camp. Should anything happen, they’ll report to me. I’m hoping nothing will in the next few days,” Derek says, fingers carding through Isaac’s hair.

“Good,” Jackson says from his spot against Derek’s thigh.

Anything happen here while we were gone?” Derek asks.

“Um…apparently, there was an attack, magically, on the girl spy,” Isaac says. “It was right after we had left to come to you. Lord Stilinski stopped it from killing her but was hurt in the process.”

Derek had forgotten about their little problem back here, so busy fighting a war. “Is he all right?” Derek asks with a sigh, too tired to even get tense with worry.

“Deaton says he’ll be fine, but they’re keeping him from doing too much until he’s fully recovered,” Isaac says with a snort. Derek agrees with him. From what he’s seen of the feisty Omega so far, if he wants to do something, no one can stop him unless they knock him out.

He’s finally starting to feel tired with his pack surrounding him, their warmth against him. Settling into the cot once again, he lets himself drift a little. “I want to talk with the child spy tomorrow,” Derek says as a last thought before sleep pulls him under.

~*~

The child is small, barely into adolescence, with long brown hair pulled back in a tail and a dull dress hanging loose from her shoulders. She looks innocent compared to the deeds she has done against them. Yet he can’t hate her. The need to do anything for family is known to him.

She presses up against Lady Martin’s side, fear evident in her eyes. Derek sighs and lowers himself stiffly into a nearby chair. He still feels weak from the poison. Deaton says it will pass in a few days’ time, but he wants it gone now.

“I am not here to harm you, little one,” Derek says softly, looking at her. “Just tell me what you told the others. Once I hear it, I will send word to have your brother taken from your father’s custody and put under the protection of the Hale Pack as will you.”

Abigail swallows nervously and nods before speaking softly and in as much detail as possible of the events leading up to her capture.

A time later, Derek nods and she is escorted out of the room back to where she has been staying. Derek sighs and rubs at his jawline, wanting this exhaustion to leave him. “Will she really be put under protection?” Stiles asks quietly from his spot near the only window.

Derek turns to look at him. “Yes, we do not condone the use of children in matters of this. To use the safety of a child to force another is abhorrent and this Adrian Harris will be tried for his crimes.”

“Good,” Stiles says simply and stands from his chair. Giving a small smile to Derek, Stiles leaves the room. Derek slouches in his chair with another sigh. He’s too tired to have to deal with these sort of things.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a new chapter and a little something to make people out there happy. Things are starting to move along. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 10

It’s early and the sun is only just clearing the wall of the fort as he steps from fort itself and starts to walk towards the main gate. Danny is silent behind him, never a morning person. Stiles, on the other hand, is usually bouncing around the moment he wakes up. He used to be the bane of his nurse’s life when he was a child, always getting into things the moment he woke up and usually before she was even up.

The camp, as they enter it, is only just starting to rise. The few who see his passage nod in greeting and Stiles nods back. Stiles and Danny slip into the medical tent and stop to look around. The main section is empty of anyone, but he thinks he remembers the general direction Deaton’s domain is in.

They start a slow walk down a side part of the tent, looking for the elusive physician. They stumble upon him near the back, a smoking pot in front of him on a small brazier. Stiles clears his throat after the man finishes pouring a golden fluid into the pot.

The physician looks up to see them and sets aside his tools and turns to look at them. “Good morning, Lord Stilinski, how may I be of service?” he asks.

“Actually, I’ve come to see you about our talk from before, concerning my Spark,” Stiles says softly. “I don’t really know much about magic. I scoured our library and it was surprisingly sparse. I was hoping you might have some material to help me get more knowledgeable about this subject before I make any kind of decision.”

Deaton gives a small smile. “You are wise to realize that you do not know enough and are willing to remedy this. Many would not. I happen to have a few journals that might be very enlightening. If you’ll wait a moment,” Deaton says and walks over to a small discrete bookshelf hidden behind his work table. He comes back with two small leather bound books.

“Here, these might serve you,” he says and hands them over. Stiles runs his fingers over the worn and cracked leather. The covers have no words, but one has an embossed moon in silver leaf on it and the other a sun in gold leaf. “These are from a pair of siblings whom both had magic and decided to use it. You’ll find their unique perspectives are very informative.”

“Thank you,” Stiles says and tucks the books to his chest. I’ll come back in a few days with my decision,” Stiles says solemnly. Deaton nods and Stiles and Danny leave the tent. Stiles hears swords ringing against each other and he glances to the right to see the training field that had been set up and two figure lunging at each other.

Interest piqued, he starts to walk over, Danny sighing, but still following his wayward charge. Halfway there, Stiles identifies one of the fighters as Derek. He’s bare from the waist up, as is the other fighter, their skin shining with sweat. The stark black ink of a Triskel rests between Derek’s shoulder blades.

Stiles can’t take his eyes away and when Danny clears his throat, Stiles jumps, flushing at being caught staring. Glancing up at his knight, he looks back at the fighters and asks, “Do you think you could take him?” He’s seen Danny fight, the knight moving with skill and grace that has always made Stiles envious. It seems that through most of his life, Stiles was more prone to trip over his own feet then be graceful.

Danny is silent for a few minutes, just watching the exchange of blows. Finally he stirs. “Right now, yes, since he is still recovering from his injury and poisoning, and especially because he’s letting his emotions take over. When he is at full health, most likely not,” Danny says with a shrug.

Stiles hums in acknowledgement and turns back to watch the fight. After restarting his training, he’s started to remember what he had studied before and he can see Danny is right. Derek may be fast and strong, but he’s still clumsy, still unsure of his body’s limits after being weakened so. Even Stiles can see he’s pushing himself too far, letting his mounting frustration at not being at his peak performance cloud his judgment.

His point is made when Derek lunges at his opponent and over reaches, his feet landing wrong. The other werewolf see the opening and gets under Derek’s guard and, slipping a foot between the Alpha’s weakened stance, sends him to the ground with a thump and a huff as the air is knocked from Derek’s lungs.

Wincing in sympathy at the impact, Stiles walks over quickly, wanting to offer the Alpha a hand up, ignoring Danny’s hiss of his name and to stay put. The Alpha is breathing hard, eyes red and glaring up at the world. Stiles offers his hand to Derek and is rewarded with a stinging slap as the Alpha knocks his hand away and surges up to his feet with a growl.

Stiles shrugs the rebuff off and steps back with a comment, “No need to be a Sourwolf just because you got knocked down. Stop letting your emotions mess with your form.”

Derek turns coal red eyes on him with a glare. “And what would a weak, ignorant, country bred, little Omega know about sword fighting?” Derek growls back advancing a step and bringing himself to his full height to tower over Stiles.

Stiles can feel heat creeping into his checks at Derek’s words but doesn’t let them get to him. He should have realized that his comment would sound like mocking to the Alpha and with his emotions so high, he would need to posture to seem big. Lydia still does it sometimes when things don’t go her way, but not as often as it used to when they were younger.

“I meant no offence with my comment, Alpha Hale and I may not have been trained from birth to hold a sword, but even I know emotions can cloud a person’s judgment,” Stiles says evenly, keeping his eyes lowered, trying to keep from provoking the Alpha further.

Apparently, his submissive behavior isn’t enough and the Alpha growls loudly and Stiles glances up to see Derek’s eyes glowing even brighter and his face starting to shift with his rising anger. Heart in his throat, Stiles takes a step back, for the first time a spike of fear makes his blood run cold in the presence of the Alpha.

Danny grabs his arm and yanks Stiles behind him, his sword ringing as he draws it from its sheath to level the deadly point at the Alpha’s heart. “One step further Hale and I will run you through. I don’t care if it starts a war, you will not harm my charge,” Danny growls at the Alpha.

The tension seems to mount as the standoff between Alpha Werewolf and Beta Human draws on and on before just as suddenly as it started, Derek seems to be back in control. Derek’s face smoothes out, his eyes fading back to their hazel color, and the claws that had sprouted from his nail beds shrinking back into blunt human fingers.

“What?” he asks softly confused as he takes in Danny’s protective stance in front of Stiles and Danny’s sword leveled at him. He jumps back as if stung, putting distance between them. His hands shake slightly as he realizes just how close he was to harming someone he said he would protect. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he says softly and turns and walks away, shoulders tight with shame and head bowed as he heads for his tent.

“What was that about?” Stiles asks, heart only just now starting to slow from its frenzy.

“I don’t know, but you will not go near him again until Deaton says he is safe,” Danny orders, staring intently at Stiles until the Omega nods. “Let’s go,” he says and sheathing his sword, grabs Stiles arm to pull him away from the training field and toward the fort.

~*~

His tent is empty when he rushes inside, for which he is glad. He doesn’t know how he could face his pack after what he had almost done. He had almost attacked Genim unprovoked. If it hadn’t been for that knight, he’s not sure what would have happened. He can still smell the Omega’s fear of him, a sharp bitter scent, in his nose. He can taste it and it makes him feel ill and shameful.

The tent flap rustles and Derek growls as Deaton walks in, hands raised in a friendly manner. What the hell is wrong with him? Will he attack anyone who gets close to him now? “Is there still poison in my system?” Derek growls out, hands fisted at his sides, head bowed.

“No,” Deaton says simply.

Derek jerks his head up and stares at the physician, “Then am I going feral?” he asks.

“No,” Deaton says again.

“Then what is wrong with me? Why am I like this? I almost attacked Lord Stilinski unprovoked?” Derek growls out and starts to pace from one side of the tent to the other.

“You are newly recovered from both blood loss and wolfsbane poisoning. Your body is weakened and still recovering. Normally, if you were just a wolf, you would be feeling extremely vulnerable at this point. The instinct to posture and attack aggressively to hide the weakness is still there, even as a man. Perhaps now you will head my words and actually rest instead of pushing yourself before you are ready,” Deaton says calmly, but his words strike out with deadly accuracy and punch Derek at the core.

Derek sighs heavily, more a huff of breath than anything else and nods, slumping into his desk chair. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I just…I hate to be idle and like to keep busy,” Derek admits. “To not be useless” hangs in the air unspoken.

“There are more ways to keep busy then the physical. You have a war to run. Perhaps now would be a good time to let your generals take command and for you lead as you should be,” Deaton says.

“You’re right; I can still work while I finish recovering. Thank you,” Derek says with a nod. “Can…can you explain what you told me to Lord Stilinski?”

“Of course,” Deaton says. Derek nods one last time and Deaton exits as silently as he arrived. Grunting, Derek sits down and gets to work running this war.

~*~

It is two days later when the tent flap is pulled back and Boyd and Erica walk in, Erica smirking and Boyd stoic. Something finally loosens in Derek’s chest as the rest of his pack finally comes back. “Message from Deucalion, of fearless leader,” Erica says and saunters over with an exaggerated hip swing before slamming the sealed parchment onto Derek’s desk where he was pouring over a map.

Picking it up, he arches a brow at his Beta but doesn’t say anything as he uses a claw to slice the wax seal and unfold the message. Reading it, he frowns, setting it down to look up at the two Betas. “Tell me about these attacks,” he orders.

“Not much to tell, a couple of small skirmishes a day since you left, never in the same place or same number of troops. So far, our scouts have been able to detect their approach before they could slip by,” Erica says with a shrug, snagging the ornate dagger resting on the desk and using it to pick under her nails. Derek growls but doesn’t stop her. Erica has never listened to him when it came to the small things.

“Do they have any sort of pattern?” Derek asks, looking at Boyd.

He shrugs. “It seems like a test,” Boyd admits. “Trying to find our weak point.”

“To get through? They’d have to be a pretty small group to slip through unnoticed,” Derek mutters, thinking aloud.

“I’m just reporting what it looks like. Who knows why Gerard does what he does. The old man is probably crazy,” Boyd admits.

“True,” Derek says. “Thank you. Go rest and I’ll send you back with more reports in the morning.” The two nod, stepping close to run a quick hand over Derek’s arm and shoulder before leaving.

He’s not surprised to see Deaton walking into his tent a few minutes later. Derek just grunts as the physician takes the stool in front of his desk. Marking the spot he was studying on the map, he finally looks up. “I take it there has been news?” Deaton asks.

Derek nods. “It seems Gerard is picking at our defenses, probably to find a way through, but I don’t know why. Expect only a few bad cases for the next few days, but be prepared just in case.”

“Of course,” Deaton stops his retreat from the tent and glances back. “You seem much better. Has your weakness passed?”

Derek nods, “For the most part. Just the last little bit hanging on.”

Deaton hums. “That is good. Now that the worst of your weakness is gone, you need not worry so about your instincts taking over.” He leaves before Derek and reply, the flap swishing behind him.

Derek sighs and rubs at his eyes tiredly. Straightening, he gets back to work. An hour goes by with little work done as a thought worms its way into his mind. Sensing that he won’t get anything done until he does it, Derek stands, and strapping on his sword, leaves the tent.

Outside, the sun is nearing the horizon, stretching the shadows and tinting everything with a light orange color. Taking a deep breath, Derek lets his feet carry him towards the fort. Slipping into the fort, he follows a familiar path into it. He knocks on the Omega’s door but no one answers, even after he knocks harder a second time. Derek moves on, thinking Genim might be somewhere else.

He heads for the study, but that too is empty, though he can smell that the Omega had been there recently. Going further, he finds himself in front of what Genim said was his family library. He stops as he spies the knight, Danny, from before.

Taking a deep breath, Derek steps into the hall fully and lets his presence be known. Danny stiffens but refrains from drawing his blade. Derek nods at the knight. “Duke Hale,” Danny says stiffly.

“I came here to apologize to Lord Stilinski for my past actions,” Derek says softly. “And it seems I need to thank you as well.” Danny frowns at his words. “For stopping me,” Derek clarifies. “I…I don’t know what would have happened had Genim been by himself.”

“Deaton explained what happened, you are not completely at fault,” Danny admits. His posture relaxes slightly at Derek’s words.

“I still would like to apologize properly,” Derek says evenly.

Danny studies him for a few moments before nodding. “I will see if he will see you,” Danny says and slips into the library, shutting the door behind him. Derek forces himself to keep from listening in. Danny returns a few minutes later and nods before holding the door open for Derek to pass through. He’s surprised when the knight doesn’t follow him in.

“I told him to wait outside. I figured you’d rather not apologize with an audience,” Genim says when Derek glances back at the door. “I am glad to see you are in much better health,” Genim says neutrally, amber eyes watching Derek from his spot on a low couch near the fireplace, an old leather bound book resting in his lap, finger keeping his page. Derek stares for a few seconds, taking the scene in. Genim seems to be more at home here than on the practice fields.

Derek arches a brow when the Omega pats the spot on the couch close to him. “I’d rather not be forced to stare up at you,” Stiles explains. Huffing softly in a sort of laugh, Derek nods and walks over to sit down, putting some space between them.

“Deaton explained what happened and I want you to know I don’t hold it against you,” Genim says softly, fingers toying with the cover of the book in his lap.

“I still need to apologize. I was stupid for what I did. I put you and all my people at risk and I could have made my recovery a lot longer had I kept at it. I promised to protect everyone within this fort and that includes you. I haven’t done a very good job of this,” Derek says, hands clenching on top of his thighs.

Stiles sets his book aside on a low table and sits forward, placing his hands on Derek’s clenched fist. “I think we are at a moot point. You will keep apologizing even though I think there is nothing to apologize for.”

“No, there is something to apologize for. My words spoken to you. They were harsh lies and a disservice to you. You are far from weak. I think you are very strong and intelligent,” Derek says, hands flattening as he stares at Genim. Large amber eyes stare back at him. He can’t help but shift his hands to lay them on top of Genim’s, thumb stroking slowly over the back of his hand.

Genim’s breathe hitches softly and Derek leans forward, drawn in. There’s a knock at the door and the both spring apart as if burned. Danny asks how things are going in there. “F-fine,” Genim calls out, face flushed and hands fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt.

“I better go,” Derek murmurs, trying to keep from startling the Omega. “Good evening, G-Lord Stilinski.”

“Good evening, Duke Hale,” Genim says back, not looking up at him. Derek sighs but does leave, shutting the door behind him. Danny just eyes him as he leaves but Derek keeps his face blank and not giving anything away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible person, letting you guys hang so long for me to get the next chapter out. The last month has been a series of ups and downs and between work, the holidays , the ending and starting of school and just a lack of inspiration, here is your chapter. Things are getting heated in this chapter and not in a good way.
> 
> Also, to give you guys a little treat, I will be doing a sequel to this fic. I've already started planning it out, so look forward to that as well as new chapters when I get them out.

Chapter 11

Stiles watches Derek leave the library with a faint flush coating his cheeks. He refuses to run his fingers over the spot Derek had touched. He won’t be some fickle Omega after any Alpha that shows him a hint of interest.

Still, Derek is pleasing. Any Omega would be proud to have that Alpha for a mate, but Stiles doubts Derek would even glance at him if he wasn’t the only titled Omega in the area. Derek is kind, in his own gruff way, but Stiles knows he would have to marry to continue the Hale line and would want a gentle, well-bred Omega and not some country raised Omega who didn’t know the first thing about being the mate of both a Duke and current heir to the throne of kingdom.

‘He called you strong and intelligent’ a small portion of his mind whispers to him. Stiles ignores it and goes back to his book, his day now thoroughly spoiled by his stupid thoughts. He pushes the thoughts aside and focuses on the written words in the journal in front of him.

Deaton had been right. They were informative about magic in general. They show two brothers and their differing experiences with magic. The first brother, the one with the sun on the cover had seen magic as a weapon and a power to amass. He had spent most of his life lusting after more magic and had eventually killed himself with his own addiction.

The second seemed to be the complete opposite. The one with the moon on the cover had only learned magic because his brother had asked him to study with him. He had resented every minute of learning magic, but once he started he could not stop his learning in the middle. He had been weak willed and most of his spells either never worked or were weak at best. He spent most of his life fearing his magic and refusing to us it at all.

Stiles can see the lessons Deaton is trying to show him. He wants Stiles to know what he is getting into. That if he isn’t careful, his magic can become an all-consuming addiction. On the other hand, he has to have enough will to control it or else it could control him. From what he has read, much of magic is just believing and willing the spell to work and then providing the necessary magic to fuel it.

Stiles reads the next passage in the book.

_My brother yelled at me today after reappearing from a three year long absence. He says I am letting my abilities go to waste. He thinks I am weak and a coward. I can’t blame him. The more I study, the more I do not want this cursed gift I so foolishly took as a child. It is a constant battle to keep from being taken over by this power the flows through me. I tried to create a mountain ash barrier today. It was paltry at best and when I asked my friend Garrow to test it, him being a shifter and all, he passed right through it and laughed at me. I wonder, is it my unwillingness to learn that holds me back or the fact that I am a coward? My brother would say both, but I see the madness creeping into his eyes and wonder if I am the one in the right. I know that one day; this magic will be the death of him and mourn for the loss of my brother. I wonder what would have our lives been like had we never met the witch who saw the Spark of magic within us. Some days I despise that fated meeting. For now I will continue my magic and try to sooth my brother’s ever growing temper and complaints of a head ache._

What did he mean by a mountain ash barrier? Did it only stop shifters? Or could it work on anyone? He had so many questions bouncing in his head these last few days. But this brother’s account of his life of magic made Stiles hesitate. Did he really want to learn magic?

~*~

Isaac wonders why Deaton would ask him to come to the fort and not the medical tent for his examination, but shrugs it off. The physician is odd and often he seems to confuse people just for the fun of it.

Still, he’s a bit wary as he walks down the stone corridor toward Lord Stilinski’s library. He opens the door and steps through. Inside, Deaton is seated by a table, a few things set out on it. Lord Stilinski is seated by the fire, engrossed in a book and he doesn’t even look up at Isaac’s entrance.

“Ah, Isaac, over here please,” Deaton says, waving the Beta over. Isaac steps over and sits on the chair Deaton points at. “How are you feeling today?” he asks.

“Um, good,” Isaac says with a shrug.

“No lingering pain or weakness from the wolfsbane poisoning? I know you took a larger concentration than normally used. There’s no need to shrug anything off,” Deaton says with a level look at the Beta.

“I’m really okay. Sometimes I feel a twinge in by back where the arrow struck, but no other pain or weakness,” Isaac says.

“Hm, phantom pains, nothing to be done for that but wait for it to go away. Now I’ll just do a brief examination of the wound site to make sure all is healed. If you could please take off your shirt,” Deaton says, standing and coming around the table. Isaac shrugs quickly unknots the lacing of his tunic. Drawing it over his head, he settles the garment on his lap. His shirt comes next.

He flinches a little as Deaton’s hands settle on the skin of his shoulder. The physician’s fingers are chilled. “Sorry about the cold,” he says and Isaac shrugs again. Deaton is quick, running his hands over the back of his shoulder and the front where he recalls the arrow having been. Without the poison in his system, he had healed and left no scar.

“Does it hurt when I press on it?” Deaton asks, pushing from both sides. He only feels pressure.

“No, no pain,” Isaac says.

“Good. You can get dressed now,” Deaton says, moving back to his chair. Isaac is quick to pull his clothing back on. Even with the fire burning in the hearth, the air is still cool in the room.

“Deaton,” Stiles calls softly and Isaac jumps having forgotten that the Omega was even in the room. Deaton looks over at Stiles. “I read something in this journal that I wanted to ask about.”

Deaton inclines his head for Stiles to continue. “It says here he created a barrier of sort… from, from mountain ash,” he finishes, finally recalling the word. “How can that stop someone?”

“Ah, I know what you speak of. The properties of mountain ash are very useful when repelling an attack from any kind of shifter. The wood naturally repels them, though it does not harm. When mad into either a powder or ash, it can be used to line places to keep them out or in, though a spark is needed for it to be strong enough to hold them and to keep the barrier from being blown away. It’s quite simple. I have some on me actually and could demonstrate. Isaac, would you mind testing the barrier for me?” Deaton asks, looking at the Beta.

“Um, sure,” Isaac says, not sure what Deaton is talking about but intrigued all the same.

Deaton pulls a plane ring off of his finger and places it on the table in front of him in a clear spot. Reaching in his robe, he pulls out a small green glass vial, a wax seal around the cork keeping it closed.

The moment Deaton breaks the seal, Isaac stiffens, looking at the container uncertainly, the hairs on his arm standing up. “No need to worry, Isaac. It cannot harm you,” Deaton reassures. He pours a small amount into his hand, no more than a pinch or two. “Watch,” he says and slowly lets it pour out of his clinched hand.

The powder falls and lands in a suspiciously straight line, slowly circling the ring until the barrier is complete. A ring of powder circles the ring in its center, a foot in diameter. Much more powder seems to be on the table then Deaton had pulled out.

“Isaac, try and get the ring,” Deaton says evenly, watching the Beta. Isaac reaches out. He lets out a small noise of confusion as his hand meets resistance just at the edge of the circle. Small flashes of light appear around his fingers as he pushes harder. “How does it feel?” Deaton asks Isaac.

“Um, warm when I press hard, but it just feels like there’s a soft barrier that I can’t pass through,” Isaac says softly, watching the light play around his fingers.

“Stiles, you try,” Deaton says beckoning the Omega over. Stiles comes over and slowly puts his hand out and it passes over the line unhindered. “How does it feel?”

“Warm, like I put my hand in warm water,” Stiles admits, turning his hand this way and that. There aren’t any lights for him, though he can feel a subtle pressure on his skin, like there’s air trapped inside and pressing down on him.

“Good. What you are feeling is the magic used to hold the barrier. You cannot just put down the ash and have it work. You have to believe it will work. That it will stop any shifter. Your will can also take a small amount and make it more in a pinch, though I recommend you don’t try it too much if you do study magic. The ability to create takes a large amount of magic and can drain someone if they are not careful. Now break it.”

“What?” Stiles asks, confused and taking his hand out of the barrier. His skin tingles even away from the barrier.

“There is nothing magical to it if that what has you concerned. To break a barrier, you just have to break the line. That is the weakness of barriers like these. It only takes one human to break the barrier, so be careful. Now break it,” Deaton repeats.

Swallowing quickly, Stiles puts his hand back inside the barrier and touches one finger to the table top. Sliding it back, he drags the digit back through the line and breaks it. The moment, he breaks it he feels the magic dissipate like a bubble popping, gentle and leaving a slight residue on his skin. He rubs absentmindedly at his hand.

Someone clears their throat behind them and Stiles and Isaac jump a foot in the air, spinning to see Derek standing behind them. The Omega inside him shrinks back at the thunderous look in Derek’s eyes, though his face remains schooled to a blankness that does not bode well. He jerks his head towards the door and Isaac scurries away, shoulders hunched and head down.

“Derek,” Deaton acknowledges the Alpha, though not meeting his eyes to keep from seeming to challenge him.

“Deaton,” Derek says softly and his voice is a deep growl. “I wish to speak with Lord Stilinski privately for a few minutes.” Deaton’s eyes flick between the Alpha and Omega, quickly judging if he should stay or go. Finally, he nods and bows to the Alpha before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

Stiles stands there, not looking at Derek rebelliously, but still fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt. “What do you think you were doing?” Derek finally growls out, striding closer and seeming to tower over Stiles. Stiles stands his ground, though his mind is screaming at him that that is the stupidest idea ever.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Stiles says stiffly, his spine straightening and chin rising up defiantly.

“You were using magic,” Derek growls out.

“I was not,” Stiles says back.

“Then why do you smell of mountain ash?” Derek asks, voice still just below a shout.

“I broke the barrier, nothing magical to it. Deaton was showing me what the barrier was,” Stiles says back hotly. “Besides, what does it matter to you if I do, do magic?”

“Magic is dangerous and treacherous,” Derek hisses, his eyes starting to shine the barest of red.

“So because I have the potential to learn magic, does that make me dangerous and treacherous?” Stiles hisses back, growing angrier by the minute.

“That is not what I meant,” Derek says quickly.

“You seemed to be hinting at that by your words. And so what if I smell like mountain ash or do magic. It should not be any of your business,” Stiles says, glaring at Derek.

“It is my business, because I am your…” Derek starts but Stiles cuts in.

“My what? Alpha? That’s just it Derek, you aren’t my Alpha, nor my king or queen. You are the General of your queen’s army and once this war ends, you will leave and I will be just some Omega you met in a time of war. I do not have to explain myself to anybody, you of all people,” Stiles shouts, cheeks going red in anger and hands clenched at his side.

Derek takes a step back as if slapped, looking stunned at Stiles words. He quickly gets ahold of emotions. “Fine,” Derek growls out, a deep rumble coming from his chest. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care about some Omega,” Derek grits out. He shifts away and storms out, slamming the door behind him.

Stiles paces the room from one side to the other, running shaky fingers through his hair and cursing softly to himself. The door opens and Deaton comes in with a brow arched. “I take it he does not approve,” he says flippantly.

“I don’t care what he approves of,” Stiles says sharply. Letting out a breath in a huff, Stiles straightens. “I need to clear my head, so I’m going riding,” Stiles says.

“What about your guard?” Deaton asks.

Stiles stops for a moment on his way to the door. “When he returns, tell him I’ve gone riding. He’ll know where I’m going.” Stiles shuts the door and marches from the fort to the stable set to the side of the fort.

Inside, the stable hand jumps to attention as Stiles storms inside. “Saddle my horse,” Stiles says sharply.

“Um, my lord,” the man says and motions to where his and Danny’s horse have already been saddled. That’s right; he and Danny had been planning to go riding once he got back from fixing a problem elsewhere in the fort.

Stiles blows out a breath and tries to calm himself. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?” he asks.

“Matt, Matt Daehler, sir,” Matt says, bobbing his head.

“Right, Matt. Thank you, sorry I snapped. When Danny arrives, tell him I’ve headed for the west woods,” Stiles says and quickly mounts up, settling his cloak better around his shoulders. Matt holds open the stable door and Stiles knees his horse forward, the brown mare following where he directs. Once he’s through the gate, Stiles give the horse her head and lets her run full out, the pounding of her hooves on the packed rode drowning out his swirling thoughts and feelings.

~*~

Derek storms out of the fort and up to the wall where the cold winter wind whips harshly at his cloak and hair. The guards posted on duty eye him but wisely don’t say or do anything as Derek paces to vent his fury over a certain Omega.

Derek’s head jerks up as the sound of hooves sound out on the road leading from the western gate. Derek turns and sees a lone horseman riding away, dark brown cloak flapping behind him. Derek watches Genim ride away and feels a stab of worry in his gut. Ignoring it, Derek turns away.

He’s on his third loop of the wall when the clatter of feet comes up a nearby stairway and Danny emerges onto the wall. “Where is he?” he asks hotly, glaring at the Alpha.

“You mean he didn’t tell you,” Derek says with a shrug. “I saw him ride out of the western gate.”

“Damn it Hale, this is no time to let your trampled feelings and ego get the better of you. One of your Beta’s is down there with a message. Apparently, Gerard found your weak point in your sentries. A small group got through and were headed this way.”

Derek’s heart skips a beat and turns back towards the direction Genim rode out. “Damn it,” Derek growls out and charges down the stairs, Danny following. At the base of the stairs, they start to split ways before Danny calls him back.

“What about a horse?” he asks.

“I can move faster on foot,” Derek says before taking off. Danny nods and races for the stable.

In the stable, he finds his horse already saddled from when he had sent down the order for them to be saddled. A stable hand is already waiting for him holding the reins. “Did he say which way he was going?” Danny asks sharply.

“He said he was going to the south woods, sir,” he says with a bob of his head.

“Thanks,” Danny says, taking the reins from the stable hand and urging his horse around and out the still open door. Pushing his black gelding into a trot, Danny heads for the western gate. Once out, he turns his horse south and urges him into a full out gallop. Derek is nowhere in sight, but Danny just shrugs the thought away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to do both, like Wolfie suggested knowing me so well. So we have not helpless BAMF!Stiles and Derek to the rescue. Enjoy the slightly longer than usual chapter.
> 
> TW: Attempted Rape/Non-Con and Attempted kidnapping, be warned!!!

Derek pauses briefly to give instructions to Boyd, the Beta standing as he draws near. “Gather up two units and have them scout the area around the fort. Make sure no one gets through,” Derek says and Boyd nods, quickly walking away.

Derek runs over to the gate and pauses, taking a deep breath. The scent of horse over powers Genim’s scent trail, but it’s still there. It leads west, towards a stand of trees that curve around to the south. Taking in a deep lung full, Derek takes off, not bothering to see if Danny is even finished saddling his horse or if he is following at all.

He covers the distance in a matter of minutes, feet pounding the hard packed, frozen earth. He doesn’t feel the cold wind whipping his face, snagging his cloak that billows out behind him. In the trees, he lets loose, shifting to all fours, eating the distance, always following the lingering scent of Omega and horse through the trees.

~*~

Stiles is still fuming when he finally pulls his horse up, slowing her by pulling back on the reins. She whickers softly, tossing her head, sensing her rider’s agitation. He’s still not sure if he wants to punch Derek in his stupidly handsome face, repeatedly, or just disembowel him with a dull, rusty spoon and get it over with and spare the pain of bruising his knuckles.

He’s still deep in thought when he finally seems to notice his surroundings, or the fact that it is too quiet in the trees right now to mean anything good. His horse is tossing her head, not because of Stiles, but because she can scent something on the breeze that is making her nervous.

Stiles frowns, eyes scanning the path he has been following and the trees surrounding them. He can’t see or hear anything, but then again, he’s human and his senses are limited. Deciding his ridden far enough, Stiles wheels his horse around only to be brought up short by the three men blocking the path he just rode down.

Stiles curses softly, turning her around only to come up short again as three more step out of the trees behind him. Glancing to the sides, he can see even more to his left and right. He’s completely surrounded.

Stiles goes to reach for his sword only for his gloved hand to meet air and for him to remember that his sword was leaned up against the wall where he left it when he stormed out of the fort. Stiles keeps his eyes shifting between as many of these men as possible while trying to hide the fact that he’s reaching down to his boot. Keeping his horse turning shields his movement enough so that he can palm his boot knife.

“Who are you and what is it you want?” Stiles asks as they seem to come to a stop in a circle just big enough to contain his circling horse and to keep them a bit of distance away. Not far enough away where Stiles could make a break for it unfortunately.

“Quite the mouth on you, Omega, to be demanding answers from us,” one of them speaks up and Stiles’ eyes lock on him, confirming that he is the leader of this group. A glimmer of silver has him glancing down slightly to see a silver wolf on a royal blue background stitched into the man’s shirt breast. The Argent royal crest, these are Argent soldiers. How did they slip by Derek’s sentries?

“I know who you are,” Stiles hisses, glaring at the man and bring his horse around to face the man. “Argent.”

“You are part of the Argent kingdom as well,” the man says easily, stepping forward slightly.

“Gerard is no longer my king, not after denying my people the support that should rightfully have been theirs. I will never support a man who willingly lets his people starve,” Stiles hisses.

The man takes another step, hands up trying to look nonthreatening. It’s the wrong move to make. It brings him close enough that Stiles can aim properly. He doesn’t even have time to mutter a gasp before he falls to the ground, dagger protruding from his neck, blood welling up. He crumples to the ground and Stiles is already reaching for his belt dagger. He’s not completely defenseless. Danny always did say he was better with daggers.

The men surge forward and Stiles swings his horse around, already readying for the next attack. He’s also got a second weapon. Most people would assume his placid mare is just an Omega’s palfrey, a riding horse and nothing else. But she’s more than that. She’s a war horse, trained by Danny to defend him in case of such a moment like this.

The moment one of the men gets in biting distance, her head shoots out, grabbing him by the arm and biting down hard enough to draw blood and a cry from her prisoner. Letting him go, she rears up, hooves pawing at the air, striking her opponent and knocking him down. She comes down with a sickening thump, hooves landing on his back.

Stiles is busy trying to remain in his saddle as they try and drag him out of it. His dagger snakes out, scouring one man in the throat and another slicing through his shirt to cut through muscle in his arm. Stiles braces himself as his mare rears again before plunging down and sending out her back hooves, connecting solidly with the man’s chest that had been trying to sneak up behind Stiles.

Stiles sends one man down, a gaping wound to his neck, another clutches his face as blood pours down his face to blind him. But no matter how much damage he does, more keep coming, hands constantly grabbing at him, at his clothes. One snatches his cloak and Stiles tears at the ties until it comes off.

He goes to stab one who gets close but he aims wrong and ends up on glancing off of bone. The man grabs his wrist, twisting until his hand spasms, dropping the dagger. Wrenching his arm back, Stiles aims a kick to his chest, sends him sprawling.

He needs to get out of here. Kneeing his horse, he tries to break through the press of bodies. A couple are knocked down and trampled, but there are too many and one eventually gets a hold of her bridle, forcing her head down so she can’t rear or kick.

Stiles fights, fights like mad, kicking and screaming, clawing at any bit of flesh he can come in contact with but he can’t fight them all and he’s wrenched from the saddle to land heavily on the ground. He struggles as they pin him down, forcing his arms behind his back and trying them with stripes of his torn cloak.

“I’m not sure if you were worth all this effort,” one man sneers down at him. Stiles spits in his face and receives a fist to his jaw for his efforts. Stars burst in his eyes and he can only lie there, gasping as the last of the group huddles around him talking.

Stiles can make out five or six bodies on the ground from his vantage point, leaving only eight standing over him. If only he’d had his sword. He can see one lying on the ground where it had come off a man’s belt. If he could get out of his bonds and get to it, he might be able to do something.

He struggles with the cloth ropes. They didn’t seem to be too concerned with him getting away since they didn’t tie the knots very good. He’s almost got it when the group takes notice of his struggles. “Stop your squirming,” the one who struck him before says, landing a kick to his stomach that leaves Stiles trying to curl up in a fetal position and dry heaving.

“She said we had to bring him to her if we could get to him,” one says.

“Yes, but she didn’t mention he would cost me so many men,” the leader says and Stiles apparently assumed wrong on who the leader was. “I figure, I’m allowed some pay back and she didn’t say we had to bring him back pristine.”

Stiles freezes at his words and starts to struggle even more as the man grabs him by his shirt and drags him over the ground to the side of the path. He pushes a knee into Stiles' back, keeping him there as his hands yank and pull at Stiles belt, loosening it enough to pull Stiles pants down. “Keep struggling, bitch, it only excites me more,” he hisses into Stiles’ ear, laying on top of him.

Stiles keeps struggling and cries out as rough, dry fingers shove into him. Something metallic brushes by his hands and Stiles jerks as he realizes that the man still has belt dagger on. Stiles strains, trying to reach for it, his wrists protesting the strain. He can just feel it, his fingertips grazing the metal and Stiles tries to ignore the pain as the man shoves more fingers into him.

His fingers are just closing over the hilt of the dagger when a roar shakes the trees around them. His attacker jerks back slightly and the dagger comes free with a hiss. Stiles doesn’t even pause, just gets a knee under him and pushes back, shoving the dagger up into the man’s gut, his wrists straining under the unusual position.

The man falls over, dagger sliding back out as Stiles holds onto it for dear life. There are cries and screams somewhere behind him but he doesn’t care. The only thought in his mind to cut the bindings on his wrists and get away.

Stiles saws away at the already frayed cloth and it parts reluctantly, but Stiles keeps at it until he can free his wrists. Pulling his pants up and ignoring the burning pain down below, Stiles runs, ignoring the growls.

He crashes through the trees, only thought to get away and he can’t understand the words being shouted at him. He doesn’t see the root until he’s already tripping over it, sending him tumbling, though miraculously, he somehow keeps a hold of the dagger and doesn’t impale himself.

Quickly turning over, Stiles scuttles back as something crashes through the bushes behind him. Dagger in front of him, Stiles presses back into a tree, hands shaking, breathing short and fast. Derek bursts forth from the bushes, eyes burning crimson, and his face more animal than human with fangs showing. His hands are clawed and blood covers them, his clothing spattered in the crimson liquid.

“Genim,” Derek says, his voice gravely and slightly slurred around the fangs.

Stiles just presses back into the tree. “Genim,” Derek says softer, his face slowly shifting to human. He reaches out slowly, trying to keep from startling Stiles. “Stiles,” Derek says, calling out even softer, his voice more of a rumble than anything else.

“Derek,” Stiles says softly, hands shaking and slowly lowering. Before Stiles can blink, Derek is across the distance and grabbing Stiles’ hand and taking the dagger from him before pulling him into a bone crushing embrace.

Stiles just clutches at his shirt, shaking and sobbing. “Shh, shh, I’ve got you. Breath Stiles, you need to breath,” Derek whispers and Stiles realizes he’s hyperventilating, his vision wavering at the lack of oxygen. Derek’s petting him, whether he notices it or not, his hand running up and down Stiles’ back and it’s helping him calm down enough to breath.

Stiles’ not sure how much time has passed before he seems to surface back to his surroundings. “How did you know about them?” Stiles asks, frowning up at Derek.

“Boyd arrived not long after you left saying some Argent soldiers got passed the sentries and were headed in the direction you had gone,” Derek says, hands running over Stiles’ arms and sides, checking for any serious injuries. He runs a hand over Stiles’ face which is already starting to swell. “I should kill them all over again,” he growls.

“Unfortunately, they’re already dead so you can’t,” Stiles says sharply, feeling exposed and dirty in ways he doesn’t want to think about.

Derek frowns, but doesn’t comment on Stiles' words. “Can you stand?” he asks instead.

“Maybe,” Stiles admits. Derek helps him to his feet and his legs shake nearly uncontrollably. Derek doesn’t say anything though, just lets Stiles lean against him as they make the journey back to the path where Stiles’ horse is.

He helps Stiles mount her, but doesn’t try to climb up after him, instead taking her bridle and leading her back down the path towards the fort. Stiles just holds onto the saddle horn and just lets Derek lead her, suddenly bone weary.

Pounding hooves sound behind them and Stiles turns to see Danny pulling his horse up beside them, breathing hard and taking in the picture they make, Derek soaked in blood and Stiles with his torn clothes and bruised face.

Stiles sees the moment that Danny starts to feel guilt for not being there sooner. “It’s not your fault,” Stiles croaks out, voice raw. “I forgot my sword otherwise things would have gone differently.”

Danny sighs, hands clenching, the leather creaking at the force. His horse shifts restlessly at the pull on its reins. Danny seems to deflate but nods. “Next time, remember your sword. It does you no good back at the fort,” Danny says lowly, hand brushing fleetingly over Stiles shoulder before he starts to follow their slow progress back to the fort.

Lydia and Allison are waiting for them at the gate and both girls give soft cries as they take in Stiles’ appearance. Derek pauses to talk to them briefly. “Go get Deaton please,” he says softly and Allison nods, walking off to find the physician.

It’s a blur after they enter the fort. Lydia kicks Derek and Danny out of his room despite their growls and words. She helps him clean up, letting him cry into her shoulder as he whispers what happened to her. She just holds him until he’s run dry and then finishes cleaning him of dirt and blood.

Deaton arrives and looks Stiles over and doesn’t question the protective stance Lydia has taken in front of the door. Deaton checks him thoroughly and despite his protest, Lydia insists he check everywhere so Stiles is forced to submit as Deaton checks his ass as well, checking for any tearing or bleeding.

“He’ll be fine with some sleep. There some bruising and some cuts, but nothing too serious. If you want, I can provide you with a sleep draught for tonight,” Deaton offers. Stiles nods silently and the man leaves to go get the medicine.

Lydia frowns heavily, but eventually allows Derek and Danny into the room, Allison following, though she refuses to let them near the bed. “Are you all right?” Danny asks.

“Yes,” Stiles says softly, not looking up from his fisted hands in his lap. “Thank you, for saving me,” Stiles says softly, looking up at Derek. Derek nods to Stiles but doesn’t say anything. They stay for a few more minutes before Deaton returns with the draught.

Stiles swallows it with a grimace. It works fast though and he can feel his eye lids getting heavy. The others are starting to leave when he remembers something he needed to say. “They said to bring me to her,” Stiles mumbles, already half asleep and fighting it to get the words out. “They were after me specifically.” He’s asleep before he can see any of their reactions.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me for this chapter but things are really moving now. Also two updates in a week is my gift to you guys for being so awesome with your lovely comment. ALL THE FEELS!!!
> 
> TW: kidnapping

Derek is pacing the length between the lit hearth and the opposite wall, though he stops a few feet before the fire, not wanting to get closer. Lydia, Danny and Allison are seated on couches watching the Alpha pace, bodies tense.

Boyd seems to be the only calm one in the room, his message relayed. The reason the small group had gotten through was simple, the sentries were all dead in that area. Somehow the enemy had shielded themselves enough to remain undetected until they could kill the sentries. The fact that Gerard had sent a large force to distract the main army from noticing meant the breach had remained undetected long enough for them to get through to the fort.

“It was strange. They attacked quickly, but once some signal was sounded, they retreated quickly. The only reason we even knew about the breach was because one of the sentries survived long enough to sound the alarm,” Boyd says softly watching his Alpha pace. His eyes shine a faint gold in response.

“Why him though? Why Genim?” Derek asks in frustration. “Why would she want him?”

“Well for one thing, he is a traitor to the Argent crown for switching sides and allowing you into the fort. That treason alone would be enough to warrant the removal of his head from his neck,” Lydia says evenly, staring Derek down. “And because of this right here,” she adds, nodding to Derek.

“What?” he asks.

“You, distracted, out of your mind. Had she actually gotten ahold of Stiles, what would you have done? Gone tearing after him leaving your army leaderless and the fort undefended,” Lydia says sharply and Derek freezes, his hands clenching at his side.

“Well she didn’t and now we know she’s after him,” Allison says softly. “We can prepare better, keep her from getting ahold of Stiles.”

“That will have to wait until morning. Sleep is what you need right now,” Deaton says at the door where he’s been standing for the last few minutes. “For the moment, everything is fine.”

They all nod or grunt in their own way, standing up to head out of the room to find their beds. Danny decides to make a side stop and check that all is well with the guard placed on Stiles’ door.

~*~

Matt grunts as he shifts the heavy barrels out of the way, revealing the hidden trap door in the floor. He doubts anyone else besides Lord Stilinski himself knows about this door at all. He was lucky to stumble upon it himself as he explored the fort.

There’s a faint knock on the wood and he grips the iron ring and pulls. For a moment, it doesn’t budge and then it lifts slowly, the hinges protesting after being in one position for so long. Someone grunts from the other side, helping him to lift the door.

He coughs as dust billows up and steps back as a dark clothed figure steps out of the dark hole in the floor. “Do they suspect anything?” she asks, eyeing him.

“No, m’lady, they think they are safe within the walls,” Matt says with a nod.

“God, how soon until we can move?” she asks.

“There’s another hour until the midnight hour is called and the night shift is replaced with the morning shift. After that we’ll have a few hours to work with until anyone notices anything,” Matt says with a grin.

“Good,” Kate Argent says with a smirk.

~*~

There are voices whispering at his door. Stiles isn’t sure if he’s dreaming or awake, but either way, he should get up and tell them to stop so he can sleep. He drags himself from the bed, feeling cotton headed and out of sorts. Stiles frowns as he stands and sways, his mouth dry and eyes gritty from sleep.

He’s half way across the room when the door opens and a woman comes into view, blonde hair shining softly with what little light comes in from the dark hall outside. “What?” Stiles asks, confused.

The woman takes a step forward and Stiles stumbles back a step. Turning, he rushes for the sword leaned up next to the wall by his bed. Before he can take two steps, there’s a body colliding with his. Arms like steel wrap around him, one around his torso and arms, the other reaching up to cover his mouth, his cries muffled.

“Get in here,” she hisses and another person stumbles in. “The dagger, unsheathe it,” she hisses again. The man does, bending closer and Stiles can make out the features of the stableman, Matt. Fingers like claws dig into his cheeks, pulling his head forward. “Nick the back of his neck. You won’t need to make it big,” she instructs.

Stiles feels a small shard of pain in his neck and then it goes numb. Except the numbness spreads, slowly flowing from the point down, until his struggles weaken and finally stop in spite of his mind screaming at his body to move, get away.

Matt is staring at the dagger suspiciously. “Kanima venom. If doesn’t kill, but it will keep him paralyzed for a few hours so we can get him out of here without making a scene. Find a piece of cloth. We need to gag him since it doesn’t stop the mouth,” she says.

Matt searches and comes back with one of Stiles handkerchiefs. The woman stuffs it passed Stiles lips roughly until he can’t do anything but grunt and make muffled screams. Once he is muffled, she drags Stiles over to the bed and tosses him on it. “Grab the guard and stuff him in the other room,” she orders.

Stiles can just see him dragging the slumped form of one of the fort guards from out of the hall and towards his study. Stiles grunts, glaring up at the woman. She just grins down at him. “Don’t worry, Lord Stilinski, we won’t do anything to you just yet. You are a much needed piece in my plan,” she says.

She steps back and turns to Matt. “Make sure the coast is clear,” he goes outside, closing the door. He returns a few minutes later to nod.

“All clear. No one is around,” he says. She grins and between the two of them, they get Stiles thrown over Matt’s shoulder. Stiles can only glare at the Beta’s back as they carry him from the room. It’s a series of quick walking and stops as they check to make sure no one is around. He can’t really tell where they’re going being mostly upside down and unable to see the halls they travel through.

He does get the sense that they are going down as the stops get fewer and fewer between, the air becoming stale. They come to a final stop and Stiles can just make out some barrels pushed off to the side.

It’s not until he hears the groan of hinges and Matt starts forward and takes the first few steps down that he realizes where they are. He’d forgotten all about the siege tunnel hidden down here. It had been built by some ancestor paranoid about being on the border and was placed here while the wall of the fort was being rebuilt. How did they know about it?

The door shuts over them and darkness encloses around them. He feels the woman step past them to take the lead. A light sparks from somewhere to illuminate the tunnel but he can’t see the source. It seems to go on forever. Stiles can only see some of the wall and Matt’s back, his head bouncing with each step.

Finally, it seems to come to an end, the tunnel sloping up. A grate covered in plant matter and vines comes into view. The hinges squeal as they rub together, the rust making it difficult. Out in the open, the air is fresher and Stiles can see beams of soft moon light filtering through the trees. They’re in a stand of trees outside of the fort, though he can’t tell which direction.

A horse waits nearby, reins tied to a tree. Before he knows it, Stiles it thrown over the hunches of the horse. The woman reaches into the saddle bags and pulls out a couple lengths of rope. One ties around his wrists and legs, linking them together until he can’t move even if he could move. The second is used to tie him to the horse’s back.

“My lady, where is my horse?” Matt asks, looking around expecting a second horse to appear. Stiles is at the right angle to see the woman’s face in the moon light. She smiles cruelly and then turns, hand resting on her belt by her dagger.

“What?” she asks sweetly.

“You said there would be two horses when we got here,” Matt says.

“I lied sweet heart,” she says and pulls him forward by his shoulder at the same time as she unsheaths her dagger, stabbing him in the gut. Matt makes this wounded sound like he doesn’t understand what has happened before Stiles hears him fall to the forest floor.

She mounts up in front of Stiles without a backward glance, riding off with Stiles tied to the back. If there are any sentries out, Stiles doesn’t see them and no alarm is called out at their passing. By the time the sun has risen, Stiles can move his finger and toes and his heart is heavy because he can’t see his home anymore.

~*~

Derek is in his tent, just finishing up another report to send to Deucalion and the others, when his head jerks up at the sound of the alarm bell sounding from the fort. He’s up and running for the fort before it even tolls a second time.

There’s chaos throughout the fort, people with torches and candles running to and fro, yelling and calling out. “What happened?” Derek roars out and suddenly Lydia is there, face white as a sheet and wringing her hands.

“Stiles is gone. No one knows what happened or heard anything but a guard was found dead in his study,” she says evenly despite her appearance.

“What?” he asks, eyes flashing red before he takes off for Genim’s rooms. The moment he steps in them, he reals back, scent memory over powering him as the familiar scent of _her_ overpowers his rational thinking.

He roars his anger, his rage and Lydia who had been following him jumps back in fear. Running feet sound in the hall, Danny and Isaac spilling into the room, eyes wide at the half shifted Alpha. “Derek, what’s wrong?” Isaac asks, taking a step forward.

“She was here. She was here and I didn’t know it and she took him. I’m going to kill her this time,” Derek growls out. Before they can say anything, he’s running out the door, following the scent trail through the fort. A second one follows it but he could care less about the second one. Kate Argent is the only thing on his mind at the moment.

They come to a stop in a small cellar; some barrels the only thing in the room. Derek just rushes forward and rips the trap door open without any effort. The hinges scream with metal rubbing on metal in protest.

“What is this?” Isaac asks, the group having followed.

“A siege tunnel,” Lydia answers. “They’re meant as an escape route for people to escape through in case of a siege where the enemy is about to get through the wall.”

Derek just ignores them, barreling down into the tunnel, headless of the darkness. He can see anyway, his eyes shifting to his night vision. When he comes to the grating, he rips it off its hinges, tossing it aside and stepping out into an empty clearing.

Kate isn’t there, though a body of the person who must have helped her into the fort lies on the forest floor, cooling in the open air. He should have known better. Anyone who tangles with Kate Argent ends up dead. She doesn’t like loose ends.

Steps sound behind him as the three emerge from the tunnel. “What? Is…is that Matt?” Lydia asks sharply, staring down at the man.

“Yes, he…,” Danny frowns, “he was the one who saddled my horse yesterday. He misinformed me about Stiles’ whereabouts.” Danny curses loudly. “I should have known. I didn’t even connect the dots. I was more worried about Stiles that I ignored such an obvious sign.”

“He’s somewhat cool,” Isaac says softly, bending to brush fingers across his cheek. “He’s been here long enough to cool slightly. We may be able to catch them if we hurry.”

“We can’t just yet,” Lydia says, face set into grim lines. “I need to speak with Allison first.”

“Why do you need to speak with Allison? We need to get moving now,” Derek growls, advancing on Lydia but she doesn’t back down.

“Because she might know where Kate is taking Stiles. After all, Kate is Allison's aunt,” Lydia says without looking away.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh, another chapter for you guys. We're getting so close towards the end and then I can start the next part. I'm in the groove and might be putting up another chapter soon, keep you fingers crossed I do. XD

Allison is waiting for them when they return back through the tunnel. Before anyone can react, Derek jumps forward, growling, and clawed hand gripping her by the throat and lifting her until her toes hover a few inches off the ground. “Where is he?” he spits between his fangs, eyes glowing red. Allison gasps, clawing uselessly at his hand, trying to free herself. “Where is he?” Derek grinds out again, shaking her a little.

“Stop,” Lydia yells, grabbing at Derek’s arm and tugging. “She’s innocent!”

“No Argent is innocent,” Derek roars back, dropping Allison to turn on Lydia, glaring his rage at her.

Allison gasps weakly, rubbing at her throat from where she has slumped to the ground. “What…happened?” she finishes with a swallow.

Lydia turns away from Derek, ignoring his rumbling growl at Allison’s voice. “Kate took Stiles,” she informs the archer.

Allison pales, eyes flicking between the red head and the rest circling her. “I swear I didn’t know anything. I didn’t let her in,” Allison says weakly.

“We know,” Danny says softly. “We found Matt, the stable hand, dead outside of until recently an unknown siege tunnel.”

Danny turns from them for a moment to signal a passing guard. “You and three others go and guard that tunnel. Two on each end. No one goes in or comes out.” The man salutes and trots off to do as ordered. “We should take this somewhere less public,” Danny says. Grabbing Allison’s arm, he leads the way towards the library.

Once inside, Derek starts to pace like a caged animal, moving from one end to the next, never still and keeping his eyes trained on Allison where she sits in a chair. Danny stands over her, frowning. “Do you know where she’s taken Stiles?”

Allison shrugs. “I haven’t spoken to or seen my aunt in a few years, so it’s hard to say. Most likely, she’s taking him to wherever Geard is holed up for this war,” Allison says, shoulders sagging.

“Did you know about it? Did you know what they planned?” Derek asks, eyes looking crazed as he stalks forward, stopping only a few feet away.

Allison doesn’t need to be psychic to know what he talks about. “I had been here for a few months when we heard about the Hale tragedy,” Allison whispers.

“So what, you were sent here to spy on Stiles?” Derek asks, growling.

“Stop jumping to conclusions and judging me when you know nothing about me,” Allison hisses, glaring at Derek.

“Then spill,” Derek growls back.

Allison sucks in a deep breath. “Gerard had my mother killed,” she says evenly, not looking at anyone. “I wasn’t sure when it happened, but after ending up here, I knew for sure. Our people never liked Gerard, only tolerated him because he was royal. But when my father came of age, the people started to rally to him. He was their golden prince. My grandfather wanted this war, but my father didn’t and Gerard could never get enough support to start preparing for it. So he killed my mother and made it look like an accident. My father was so aggrieved by her death, he withdrew from everything,” Allison says and gulps in a breath, trying to hold her tears in check. The room is silent at her story.

“My father wasn’t around to stop him and he started to make plans. I’m assuming this was the time he and Kate started to plan. I was just barely out of childhood and had no idea what was going on except that my mother was dead and my father was awash in grief. Finally though, he started to come back and when he realized what was going on, he started to try and stop Gerard’s plans.”

“They didn’t realize I had been listening at the door. Gerard didn’t like this. He tried to convince my father that the Hales were a threat that needed to be taken out before they could get us. He said he wanted to go after the heart of the Hales but I wasn’t sure what he meant until I heard about the fire. When my father told him no, Gerard, he just went silent. There wasn’t anything else and the next day, I went riding with my aunt when she asked me to come with her. I didn’t realize what was going on until she knocked me out.”

“I came to in the dungeon with Kate and Gerard there. He threatened to take my father’s life if I told him I was alive, that they had faked my death by making it look like a werewolf had attacked me. He said my death would mean he could have his war. He banished me to this fort out in the country away from anyone who might know me,” Allison finishes softly.

“Did anyone know who you were?” Isaac asks from behind Derek who has gone quiet at her words.

“Only Stiles and his father. I told them who I was so they knew who they were taking in. I think Stiles’ father knew what Gerard was planning and what had gone down, but he never said anything,” Allison says.

Derek huffs, but he seems to calm some, though he doesn’t stop frowning. His eyes shift back to their normal hazel. “We know what fort Gerard is in from our own intelligence. Do you at least know anything about the fort?” Derek asks, not looking at Allison as he speaks.

“I know how to find the secret tunnels Gerard had built with it,” Allison says evenly. “He made sure we knew where they were.”

“You will tell me and then I am going to go after Genim,” Derek says evenly.

“What! You are not going without me,” Lydia hisses, glaring at Derek.

“Don’t even think about stopping me from coming,” Danny says, glaring at Derek. “Stiles is my charge and I will be there to get him back.”

“I will go as well,” Allison says softly. Derek turns to glare at her. “You will never be able to find the tunnel entrance without me. Also, it is my duty to stop Gerard.” Allison squares her jaws, staring up at Derek without flinching in his scowl.

Derek huffs but finally nods. Turning his back on the humans, he beckons Isaac to follow him from the fort. He pauses at the door. “Get everything ready for departure. We leave in half an hour,” Derek tells them before leaving the room.

He’s not surprised when he returns to his tent to see Scott, Jackson and Boyd already there. Erica is still back with the main army. “You’re going after Lord Stilinski,” Scott says when he takes in the expression on Derek’s face.

Derek nods stiffly. He turns to Boyd. “I want you to go back to Deucalion with Isaac. Relay all my orders and follow his orders as if they were my own. I will return as swiftly as possible.” Isaac whines softly and Derek turns to run a hand through his curls. “I know you want to come with me, but I need you here the most. You know me best out of possibly anyone else and will know what I would want done. Deucalion and the other Alphas will need that when they need to make decisions.” Isaac sighs and nods, leaning into Derek’s hand.

Derek turns to Scott and Jackson. “You two will be coming with me. You will act as guards for Lady Martin and Al-Lady Argent who are coming with us,” Derek says forcing back the slip up and the growl the name wants to drag out. Jackson and Scott shift in shock at the name but don’t say anything, just nod.

“Go, gather anything you might need,” Derek says dismissing them. He stops Boyd and Isaac long enough to bring them in close, running a hand over them, scenting them and being scented in return. “Tell Erica I said to be careful and if she ends up dead I will be very displeased with her.” Boyd smiles a little and nods before dragging Isaac from the tent.

By the time Derek has finished his report and scribing a letter to Deucalion giving a brief summary of the most recent events and what he wants done in his absences, the half hour is up. Grabbing his sword, his belt and boot dagger and his cloak, Derek sweeps out of the tent.

The others are already waiting, Derek’s gelding shifting restlessly beside Scott who holds the reins. Boyd and Isaac are waiting for him as well. He hands the letters to Isaac who tucks them into his tunic front where they rest against his skin. Mounting up, Derek grabs the reins from Scott and the group moves through the western gate.

They split ways, Isaac and Boyd heading east while Derek and the others head north. They stop briefly beside Matt’s body, still undisturbed from where he had fallen. The two guards Danny had posted outside the tunnel entrance nod as they pass.

Taking a deep breath away from the stink of dead flesh, Derek can just pick up a trail. It’s faint, but he will always know the scent of Kate Argent. In the distance, Derek can just see the faint light of the sun starting to rise.

~*~

Kate doesn’t stop until midmorning and that is only to water the horse and give it a rest from carrying two people. Stiles growls at her as she slips the handkerchief from his mouth. “Who are you?” he spits out, though it comes out scratchy with his mouth so dry.

“You really do not know who I am?” Kate asks, amused.

“Why would I ask if I knew?" Stiles grits out.

“I forget sometimes that not every noble has been to court. I guess being out here your whole life, you wouldn’t have seen me. My name is Lady Katelyn Argent, Lord Stilinski,” she says with a vicious grin at the way Stiles pales, eyes going wide.

She holds out a waterskin but Stiles turns his head away. “It would be wise not to fight me, Omega. We have a long three days ride ahead of us and I will only offer one more time before I stop offering. Will you drink?”

Glaring, Stiles opens his mouth and she pours some into his mouth, letting him swallow before she pours more. He drinks half of it before turning away, not wanting anymore. She holds out a bit of dried meat and Stiles takes it, chewing quickly through the touch meat. “Such a good Omega. You must have been well trained,” Kate says, grinning at him.

Kate just pats his check and mounts up back in front of him. “You may talk, but I will not tolerate too much of it. If you do not hush when I tell you, I will gag yo again and leave it there.” Stiles grunts but doesn’t say anything as the horse starts to move again. He tries to get into a better position. “Stop your wiggling,” Kate snaps. Stiles settles back the way he was, his arms numb from the awkward position they are pulled back in. “I can tell this will be a fun three days,” Kate says flippantly. Stiles just glares at her back.

~*~

He must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he knows, it’s dark and the ground is meeting his back harshly as Kate drags him from the back of the horse. Stiles glares up at her but she just shrugs nonchalantly down at him.

She unsheathes her belt knife and Stiles’ heart skips a beat for a second. But she just bends down and saws through the rope connecting his wrists and ankles as well as his ankles. She pulls him to his feet roughly, uncaring at how he can barely move he’s so stiff.

Dragging him away from the horse, she shoves him down beside a tree and produces another bit of rope which she quickly ties around his bound wrists and to the tree to keep him from trying to run. Stiles just glares at her as she goes about setting up camp and lighting a fire.

“You’re not being very subtle about kidnapping me. For all you know, they know I’m gone and are right behind us,” Stiles says as Kate starts to warm some food by placing it near the fire.

Kate snorts, “I doubt it. I planned it so they wouldn’t find out until hours afterwards and even when they did; my trail was old enough that none of those big strong werewolves that you have befriended could follow it. No one is coming for you.”

Kate smirks at him before grabbing the now warmed food and standing. She offers a chunk of bread at him, wiggling it in front of his lips. Stiles jerks forward, bring his teeth down on Kate’s fingers ahrd enough to draw blood.

Stiles’ head snaps to the side as she back hands him. “You little bitch. Just for that, you’ll get no food or water. Let’s see how a dry mouth and a growling stomach sweeten you mood,” Kate say with a hiss, stalking back towards the fire. Stiles just glares and spits out a mouth full of blood onto the dirt.

~*~

Derek crouches on the ground, the others still mounted up. He gently touches the small puddle of dried blood in the dirt. “They came this way, a little over a half a day. We are gaining on them,” Derek says, standing and clenching his fists. Kate has done the one thing she should have never done. She spilled Genim’s blood and now she will pay for it. “We keep going.” Derek mounts up and leads the way back onto the trail, following their stolen Omega.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT? Two chapters in one day? I must be out of my mind. So we come to the conclusion of the war, but there are still some loose ends to tie up before it is truly over. Enjoy.

Stiles isn’t really aware of the rest of the journey after the first half day of no food and water. After that night, Kate hadn’t tied his feet to his hands again or him to the horse. He’s able to sit up, but the rope that had bound him to the tree is now tied around the saddle horn.

By the time night falls again, he’s thirsty and hungry, but it’s not too much of a distraction, though she loves to torture him by filling up her waterskin only to dump it over and over or to toss the last little bit of her food to the ground and grinding it under her boot.

He’s out of it by the middle of the third day, body shutting down slightly to conserve energy. Even before this whole ordeal, when Stiles was half starved, he was never without food or water, even if it was only a small amount. This absolute nothing is like a punch in the gut.

He doesn’t even notice that they have stopped until Kate starts to talk and Stiles has to force himself to listen to her. “Looks like we made it,” she says conversationally. Stiles glances up and see a large fort ahead of them on the next hill over. Between them is the dip between both hills filled with trees.

She gets the horse moving again and soon the trees surround them. Stiles is expecting them to go to the gate to be let in. He doesn’t expect for her to go off the trail they have been following, heading into the thicker part of the trees surrounding this part of the fort.

It’s darker there and Stiles blinks when a lantern shines into his eyes, forcing him to squint. “Lady Kate, back so soon?” a guard says with a smirk, eyeing Stiles behind her. “And with a guest.”

“This is Lord Stilinski, Johns. Treat him well,” Kate says with a smirk as she unties the rope from the front of the saddle.

Stiles is too weak to fight as the man grabs his arms and hauls him off of the horse. Stiles lands with a thump, his knees giving out and sending him sprawling. “Not very graceful,” he mutters to Kate before grabbing Stiles’ arms again and hauls him up, throwing Stiles over his shoulder with a grunt.

A second man appears out of nowhere, taking Kate’s horse from her. “My lady, you father is expecting you and your guest in his study,” he says with a bow from the waist.

“Thank you, we’ll go now,” Kate says with a dimpled smile and follows the guard into what appears to be a tunnel whose door looks like part of a huge boulder.

Kate carries the lantern behind them and Stiles is forced to close his eye against the bright light. He’s not sure how long they walk before they come to a set of carved stone stairs. A door opens ahead of them as they near the top and another guard salutes them, taking the lamp from Kate and going back the way they came to replace the guard carrying Stiles.

No one is around to see them pass except for guards who patrol through the halls. Stiles can’t really get a sense of the halls they pass through except that they’re large and stone with guards and torches spaced equal distances through them.

They come to some large wooden double doors and Kate opens one of them, letting Stiles and the guard through. The next thing he knows, he sprawled out on the floor, gasping as the breath is knocked out of him.

“Now, now, is that any way to treat a guest?” someone asks, stepping into view. The man is old, his hair white and face lined with wrinkles that show he frowns more than smiles. He’s smiling now, though it doesn’t reach his eyes which are as hard as stone.

Stiles doesn’t need to be a genius to realize that this is Gerard Argent, current king of the Argent kingdom. “Lord Stilinski, or should I call you Genim, it is nice to finally make your acquaintance,” Gerard says softly. Stiles glares up at him. 

“Cut his bonds,” Gerard says, looking up at the guard. He does, quickly sawing through the rope until Stiles can finally bring his arms forward, rubbing at the raw skin of his wrists. “Go,” he orders the guard and he does with a salute and quickly leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Would you like some tea? I’ve just had some brewed. You look parched,” Gerard says, offering his hand to help Stiles up. Stiles smacks it away, pushing up and away, putting some distance between him and Gerard.

“Not very well mannered,” Geard says conversationally to Kate as she takes a seat at the table set up with the tea and food. Stiles stomach growls at the sight but he doesn’t try to get closer.

“Why am I here?” Stiles asks.

“I thought it was clear. You are a traitor to the crown at the moment. Your capture was only inevitable,” Gerard says after swallowing a sip of tea. “Now the pressing matter is what I shall do with you now that I have you?” he asks, nibbling on a small sandwich.

“I vote for torture myself, but that’s just me,” Kate says with a grin at him.

“There is that,” he says with a fatherly smile at his daughter. “Or…you can tell me everything you know about Hale and his army and maybe I can forgive and forget, letting you and my dear niece and all your little friends live out the rest of their lives in that middle of nowhere fort of yours.”

Stiles remains silent, not trusting himself to speak as his heartbeat picking up at the casual way Gerard just mentions torturing him, like it is all just routine to him now. “No need to decide right away. We have some time. Come, you must be hungry after your long journey. Peter, pull up another chair for our guest,” Gerard says, motioning towards a figure that Stiles is only just noticing in the back of the room.

The man bows and does as told, grabbing a third chair and placing it across from Kate and Gerard. Stiles stares at the man, frowning. Something about him feels familiar, but he can’t place it. Before he can get another look at his face, he bows again and steps back to his position in the shadows.

“Come, come, don’t be shy,” Gerard says. He pours a cup of the tear himself and places it and the saucer in front of the chair. Next he piles a few sandwiches onto a small plate and places them next to the cup. Stiles creeps forward, his stomach protesting loudly that it needs nourishment.

Stiles sits gingerly in the chair right on the edge so he can be up and across the room in an instant if need be. His hands shake as he reaches for the cup. The moment he picks it up, he feels a tingle run through his fingers, similar to what he felt with Deaton.

‘So the cup is spelled,’ Stiles thinks to himself. He can feel the tingle, but nothing else, nothing trying to do anything to him. He sips at the warm tea and a feeling of needing to talk washes over him, but he easily pushes it aside. He knows it’s magic but it seems to not be affecting him. He continues to drink until the cup is dry.

Gerard is watching him like a hawk as Stiles devours each sandwich in two or three bites. His face is getting more and more pinched the longer Stiles goes without talking. Stiles holds up the cup. “Can I have some more?” Gerard frowns but pours more into his cup. When he drinks again, he can feel the compulsion, but again he pushes it aside. If anything, it’s easier the second time.

“This is good,” Stiles says softly with a sigh. “Better than what we normally get back home. But then again, we don’t normally use spelled cups so that maybe why it tastes different.”

The only thing that gives Gerard’s surprise away is the small jerk of his hand that causes his cup to spill its contents across the white table cloth. The man, Peter, comes back and mops up the spill. Gerard brushes him away without a glance.

“You are not what I expected,” Gerard says. He looks at Kate. “I will speak with you later.” For the first time, Kate actually looks afraid and Stiles relishes the look. “Guard,” Gerard calls out. The door opens and a new man steps in. “Remain here; make sure he doesn’t do anything to try and escape. Kate, with me,” Gerard says softly, no longer looking at Stiles.

Gerard leaves with Kate in tow. The shadow man is gone when Stiles look over to his spot. Shrugging, Stiles pulls the tea pot and plate of food closer. Might as well do something to pass the time.

~*~

A few hours pass with Stiles stuck in the room, only the tolling of the bell overhead giving evidence to the passage of time. Every once in a while, he’ll hear feet walking by but no one comes to the door. The guard watches him closely but doesn’t try to stop Stiles from poking around the room.

A few more hours pass with Stiles soon becoming bored of even looking around the room. A far as he can tell there is only one door out and it’s the one he came through which is being guarded at the moment.

He’s just starting to get hungry when the man, Peter, returns with a small try. It is laden with a water pitcher and some bread and cheese. “I guess since I won’t talk, no more fancy stuff for me, huh,” Stiles says softly, not expecting to get a reply.

Peter simply shrugs, taking the used tea ware back with him when he exits. Shrugging himself, Stiles devours the bread and cheese and sucks down the water as well until he’s full. He starts to get tired and he assumes it is nearing night time.

There aren’t any beds, but Stiles refuses to sleep on the floor. He decides to curl up on a small couch off to the side of the room. Stiles settles for curling up in a ball, head pillowed on the arm of the couch. Ignoring the guard, he lets sleep take him.

Loud voices and running feet wake him sometime later. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but enough has to warrant a change in face, I the new man guarding him is anything to go by. Stiles sits up groggily, rubbing at his eyes, trying to figure out what is going on.

He doesn’t expect for the door to open and Gerard to come back in, face thunderous. “It seems my daughter was sloppy. Your little group of friends has come to your rescue. You will tell me what I need to know or I will force you to watch me have each and every one of them killed,” Gerard says grimly, pulling Stiles up off his sleeping place by a handful of hair.

“No,” Stiles pits out, rushing up to try and tackle him. Gerard just calmly back hands him to the floor.

“I see. Then you give me no choice. I will have to beat the information out of you,” he says calmly, raising his fist and bringing it down against Stiles’ cheek. Stiles cries out as his head snapping back by the force of the blow. He puts his hands up, trying to block the next blow but Gerard is undeterred, continuing to strike him.

~*~

Derek knows the moment they’ve been seen. He can hear the heartbeat of the sentry that spots them, but they don’t have time to go after him. Instead, he just urges them on faster. The trail is the freshest it has been since they started off.

He’s not surprised when the scent trail leaves the path they are on. He just turns his horse in that direction and continues on. Three guards wait for them, cross bows raised. Before they can fire, an arrow protrudes from one of the guard’s chest, sending him to the floor.

Allison draws forward, bow raised with a fresh arrow. “Will you bar me passage?” she asks as they recognize who she is. The two men throw down their cross bows. “Take him and go,” she says simply, loosening her pull on the bow.

They do as told and the group continues until Derek comes to a stop before a huge bolder. The scent trail ends here and he’s not sure what to do next. “This is why I am here,” Allison says simply. Stepping forward, she reaches up and presses some unseen switch that has the front of the bolder swinging out until a dark stairwell greets them.

Allison steps aside and Derek goes forward. They all follow through the dark, the humans keeping a hand on one of the wolves arm to know where to go in the pitch darkness. They expect some resistance, but when they get to the other side, there is no one in the room the come into.

“Which way do we go now?” Lydia asks, frowning at the two doors they can take.

“This way,” Derek says gruffly, taking the right hand door and leading the way out.

~*~

“What the hell is going on in here?” Someone yells as the door opens. Stiles is too busy hacking up blood from that last kick to his torso to see who is yelling. “There are intruders in the fort and you’re in here…beating some child,” man says.

“Chris, this doesn’t concern you,” Kate says, coming in behind them.

“He has information on Hale and his army. I’m just trying to get him to talk,” Gerard says, barely even winded after all exertion he’s put into beating Stiles.

Before the new comer can say anything, a guard comes running into the room. “Sire, they’re almost here. You need to leave now,” he says.

“Kate,” Gerard says. The woman smirk, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a glass flask. There’s a roar in the hall outside and then Kate is throwing down the flask, a cloud of black dust billowing out before it quickly forms a line across the room. Stiles feels the tingle as the magic surges and forms a barrier between them and the rescue party.

Stiles looks up just as Derek comes barreling in, eyes blazing and wolfed out completely. He can see the others behind the Alpha, keeping the guards surrounding them at bay. Derek seems to have lost it though. He charges the barrier and is hurled back with a howl.

Before Stiles can react, Kate is behind him, grabbing his arm and hauling him up. Unsheathing her dagger, she presses it to his neck and yells out, “Stop or the Omega dies.”

Derek freezes in mid crouch, eyes boring hatred into Kate’s eyes but he doesn’t move a muscle. “You will lay down you weapons and let my guards take you,” Gerard says over the noise.

“No, we shall not,” Allison says, eyes blazing as she stares down her grandfather. “Your king has lied to you. I am not dead and most certainly not dead by the hand of a werewolf. This war is being fought on the hatred of one man.”

“Allison,” the one from before says beside them, his voice breaking on the word as he takes a step forward.

“I said don’t move and that includes you brother dear,” Kate says, taking a step back and dragging Stiles with her. Gerard follows.

Suddenly, the growls that have been coming from Derek stop, his eyes watching something intently behind Kate and Gerard. Before either of them can react, a clawed hand wraps around Kate’s throat and slashes to the side.

Kate lets go of Stiles in surprise and he jerks forward away from the two Argents. “What? How is this possible?” Gerard asks, eyes staring at the man from before, Peter whose eyes are now glowing blue and who has claws sprouted from his fingers.

“Simple, you were over confident,” he says with a grin full of sharp looking teeth. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to rip that bitch’s throat out. Too bad you didn’t get here sooner nephew,” Peter says, turning to look at Derek.

“I care not who kills her, only that she is no longer breathing. And now, for you Gerard,” Derek says, stepping over the barrier that has been broken by Allison who is in her father’s arms.

“No,” Gerard yells and throws something down. As it impacts the ground, it blazes a white blinding light, momentarily disorienting everyone. When they can see again, Gerard is gone, a hidden door behind a curtain only just visible.

“I will go after him, nephew. You have other matters to see to at the moment,” Peter says, motioning towards Stiles who is still on the ground, rubbing at his eyes trying to get rid of the spot. Before Derek can say anything, Peter is gone, disappearing behind the curtain.

Derek sighs loudly, but crouches down in front of him. “Are you all right?” Derek asks softly, running a hand over Stiles shoulder. He can feel the pain radiating off of the Omega.

“I’ll be fine,” Stiles says with a smile. Before Derek can react, Stiles has his arms around his neck, hugging him. “Thank you,” Stiles says softly before pulling away with a wince as something pains him.

Derek nods with a swallow. Lydia comes running up, falling to her knees to grab Stiles and pull him into a bone crushing hug as she shakes slightly. “Don’t ever disappear like that on me again,” she hisses into his shoulder.

“I won’t,” Stiles says softly, wrapping his arms around her.

Someone clears their throat behind them and they all look up to see Christopher Argent and Allison standing over them. “I…nothing I can say can make right what my family has done to you and your people. But thank you, for bring me my daughter when I thought I had lost the last of my happiness. If there is anything I can do to repay for my family’s sin, just name it and it is your,” Chris says softly, meeting Derek’s gaze.

“That is not for me to decide. You will have to face Laura’s judgment on that,” Derek says gruffly.

“I will willingly sit down with her, should she wish to. I can give you riders to bare messages as well as send out the orders for the army to withdraw,” Chris says.

“Thank you,” Derek nods.

“Come, I will show you to a more accommodating place to rest,” Chris says not even glancing at the cooling body of his sister. They follow the man from the room, Lydia helping to support Stiles.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The war is over, things are back to normal but now comes the difficult part, finding a way to create peace between the two kingdoms before war can start back up again. Hope you guys enjoy and keep waiting a little longer. We're slowly getting to the end. It's always the last part that drags out the longest.XD

Three weeks. That’s how long it takes for events to be put into motion. The next morning, riders are sent out bearing orders from both Derek and Chris. Scott rides out with them to relay a verbal message to the Alphas and Derek’s Betas. By the end of the first week, the war is truly done and both armies are retreating.

Only Ennis’ company remains at the fort, acting as guards until Stiles can return. Scott gives his message to the other Betas and Boyd and Erica leave soon after to deliver the news to Laura as well as a message from Derek about Chris’ offer. Two weeks go by before the two Betas return with the news. Laura will sit with the new king of Argent and make peace.

Stiles and the others have all been staying in the fort while they waited for news. By the end of the three weeks, Stiles is recovered from, well everything that had happened recently. He spends a lot of time by himself thinking about what will happen now.

Chris had officially pardoned him the day after Peter killed Kate. Stiles is free to continue living as lord of his familial home. Everyone that came with Derek will be returning with him, except for Allison. She and her father have a lot of catching up to do and there are still many factions in support of Gerard that need to be found and taken care of.

Stiles is in the library when Lydia finds him to deliver the news of Laura’s message. “That’s good,” Stiles says with a sigh. “When will she be coming?”

“The letter said two months from now, so we have time to relax,” Lydia says, coming to curl up beside him on the couch. “We can start to rebuild life at the fort a new. Spring is coming, we can plant as well.”

“I’ve actually been spending my time studying up on this and I think I’ve found a way to irrigate the farm lands so this doesn’t happen again,” Stiles says. “It will take some work, but I talked with Chris and he has promised me workers to put it into motion come spring.”

“We can go home,” Lydia says with a smile and Stiles nods, hugging her close.

They leave a few days after Laura’s letter arrives with Derek and his Betas as escort. Stiles isn’t sure what happened to Peter after he returned that night saying Gerard had escaped somehow. Derek says Peter left to return home, but he hadn’t seemed too sure about it.

Back home, Stiles feels lighter. Already his people who were taken by Gerard for his army are returning, some in groups or in two and threes, some though don’t return. His people are happy and sad in turns for what has happened and with the promised help come spring; he sees a better future for them but still wishes he could have prevented so much loss.

Surprisingly, Deaton offers to stay for a few more weeks. Stiles had given his answer to Deaton’s question about learning magic and the physician had started to teach him a few basic things. Derek and his Betas as well as Ennis and his company only stay for one more day. They have been called back by Laura to prepare for her journey north. Stiles and Derek actually end up being left alone by everyone his last night there, but the atmosphere is awkward and they only end up shaking hands and wishing the other well. Stiles sees them off the next morning, watching their retreating forms from atop the fort wall.

~*~

“What?” Stiles asks from where he is seated by the fire, staring at Lydia as she reads off of the letter that had arrived from Allison.

“We have been asked to sit in on the treaty, as well as the trial for Gerard. Except for Allison, you are probably one of the most involved in this thing and they want to hear your side of the story,” Lydia says softly looking at Stiles.

Lydia continues reading silently for a few seconds and then her brows shoot up, a look of surprise showing as she looks up at Stiles. “She…she says she also wants to present you to court since…since you never got the chance what with everything happening.”

“I don’t really want to do that,” Stiles says with a wince, “it sounds painful.”

“Oh, please, every noble goes through with it. It’s the first step in being acknowledged as someone by your peers and making connections. And with you being part of Gerard’s downfall and everything else, people are going to want to get to know you. You might even get marriage offers.”

“What? Marriage?” Stiles’ voice cracks a little on the second word, eyes big. “Why would I want to marry someone who only noticed me because of something I had little involvement in and spent most of the time getting beaten?” Stiles asks.

“I said there would be offers, not that you had to accept.” Lydia huffs, throwing the letter down on a table and coming to sit next to him. “You have a luxury many don’t have, time to choose who you want to be with. Take as much time as you want,” Lydia says as she pulls him into a hug.

“Do I have to go to court?” Stiles whines into her shoulder.

“Yes,” Lydia huffs. “Just you wait, you’ll get a whole new wardrobe and if all goes to plan, you’ll be the toast of the court and might even start a new fashion trend.”

“I’m dreading every moment of it,” Stiles mutters and winces as she slaps the back of his head.

~*~

“Stiles,” Allison calls, running up to wrap him in a hug as he steps out of the carriage. “So glad you could finally come,” Allison says, pulling back but not letting his shoulders go, to look at him.

“We’re lucky to even be here. He was having fits about leaving the fort in Heather’s capable hand, besides the fact that he trained her himself. Danny had to drag him to the carriage before we could leave,” Lydia huffs from behind them.

“Lydia,” Allison says and pulls her in for a hug as well.

“You know I hate riding in carriages,” Stiles mutters. “Why couldn’t I ride a horse?”

“Because I wanted both of you were I could keep an eye on you,” Danny says walking over with his horse walking behind him. “Besides, you wouldn’t have been able to read your book on horseback,” Danny says, nudging Stiles shoulder. The Omega glares at him but stops complaining.

“So Alpha Hale has started her journey here,” Stiles says softly to Allison as they start to make their way down a path towards the guest wing of the palace.

“Yes, we got a messenger bird two days ago saying she was departing. She should be here in about two weeks,” Allison says. “Here, these shall be your rooms for your stay here,” Allison says with a smile, opening a door to let them through.

It’s large, the central sitting room giving way to three short halls that end in the doors to the bedrooms. The fire has already been lit to ward off the still lingering chill of the start of spring. “Thank you,” Stiles says softly, walking in.

“How are things back at the fort?” Allison asks as they settle in some chairs. Every once in a while a servant arrives bearing their luggage, slowly bringing them in and setting them for the three of them to sort and place in the appropriate rooms.

“Excellent,” Stiles says with a smile. “I must thank your father again for lending me those workers. The irrigation channels were nearly complete when we left. Once the rains start back up and raise the river, we should be able to see if they work.”

“That’s wonderful. Oh, I really must go see to something. I will return tomorrow and we can take you to the tailors to start fittings,” Allison says with a laugh as Stiles pales at her words. She leaves with one more wave and then disappears through the door.

The three of them settle into their chosen rooms, servants arriving with warm water to wash up with and announcing when dinner will be. By the end of the day, Stiles is worn out and just curls up in bed with a book to read for a while. He wakes up the next morning with the candle he had been using out with wax pooling on the table and his book somehow under his back, miraculously undamaged in his shifting in the night.

~*~

Allison arrives as soon as they finish eating and then she and Lydia drag Stiles off further into the palace. They end up in a large, openly lit room with sunlight streaming in from floor to ceiling windows. An old woman greets them inside.

As soon as pleasantries are exchanged, the woman motions and a horde of assistants converge on Stiles, tugging and pulling him from his clothing until all he stands in are his smallclothes. Blushing bright red, Stiles tries to bat hands away as the poke and prod, measuring string wrapping around random parts of his body, each assistant calling out a number that the old woman writes down.

He’s then carted to the back of the room where he’s pinned and fitted into more clothing then he can stand and every time he grumbles or curses, a pin “accidentally” prods him somewhere. Finally, he’s released and allowed to pull his clothing back on. Lydia and Allison just smirk when he throws a withering glare at them, rubbing at the pained spots on his body.

“We should have the first set of clothing by tonight, more by the end of the week,” the head seamstress says with a curt nod to Allison. When Allison nods, they all leave to go get to work. Danny is waiting outside the room and just grins when Stiles walks by.

“Allison, how am I supposed to pay for this?” Stiles asks, starting to worry about the rising costs. Some of that material was high quality and expensive.

“You’re not, I am,” Allison says, glancing at Stiles and staring, waiting for him to protest. Stiles goes to open his mouth to make his protest known, but them just shuts his mouth and sags in defeat. He knows when to pick his battles and Allison seems to be insistent on this.

“Can I at least ask why?” Stiles asks softly.

“Maybe this is my way of making amends for what I brought down on your fort by coming there,” she says softly, eyes slightly wet.

“That wasn’t your fault, no matter what you think. Gerard was manipulating you into thinking that everything would be your fault if you spoke up. I don’t blame you for what happened. That’s just my luck,” Stiles says with a smile, hugging her.

“Thank you, though I still don’t think I deserve it. Maybe if I had spoken up sooner instead of just sitting around doing nothing, things might have been different,” she says into his shoulder.

“If you spend your time trying to figure out the ‘ifs’ you’ll go insane. Just be glad that things turned out better than could have been hoped for,” Danny pipes in, hearing her words. “If you feel you must make amends, help those families whose lives have been changed by the war and by Gerard and Kate.”

“I will, thank you,” she says and they don’t speak any more of it that day, enjoying a simple lunch as they discuss the upcoming treaty and trial.

~*~

The day of Laura’s arrival dawns clear with a slight warmth to the air. The three of them are up before the sun, readying to greet the Alpha Queen and her escort. Stiles is fretting and nervous, barely able to eat his breakfast. He’s not sure how he should act around Alpha Hale. While he is still technically apart of the Argent kingdom, he still surrendered to Derek and was taken under his and her protection at the start of the war.

He’s dressed up in one of his new outfits thanks to of Allison and the tailors of the palace. They all troop to the grand hall where everyone in residence will wait for Laura and her escort. For their part in the war, Stiles, Lydia and Danny are given a place close to where Allison and Chris stand waiting.

He’s not sure how much time has passed, but Stiles is bored when the trumpet sounds to announce Laura’s arrival. The huge double doors at the end of the hall are pulled open and in walks what Stiles presumes is Laura Hale, Queen Alpha of Triskel.

Stiles can’t help but stare, seeing the resemblance between her and Derek. They have the same strong brows and dark coloring. She walks as if she has every right to be there. Others walk behind her, fanning out into two columns behind her.

Derek walks on her right, for once out of his armor and in clothing that is actually flattering and not the rough travel ware he wore before. Stiles tries not to stare too long, liking the look on him. To Laura’s left is a younger woman, probably more their age, but she has the same coloring as both Derek and Laura. More follow behind but Stiles doesn’t know any of them except for Derek’s Betas who stand behind him.

The herald who has kept pace with them as they walks down the long aisle towards Chris and Allison, stops a few feet behind them when Laura comes to a stop in front of them. Clearing his throat, he speaks up, “May I introduce, her majesty, Queen Laura Hale, Head Alpha of the land of Triskel. To her right, Crown Prince Derek Hale, general of her armies, Duke of Northwood. To her left, Princess Cora Hale, Marquess of Hale,” the man says and continues listing all those deemed important enough to follow Laura and the royal family.

Stiles loses track about half way through of who is who but he doubts he’ll be dealing with many of them. His thoughts are starting to drift when the man finally stops speaking and Chris and Allison take a step forward. For a second, it seems Laura might take a step back but she doesn’t.

“I welcome you to my kingdom, Alpha Hale. You and your people are welcome here. I hope that with this treaty, we can finally bridge this gap between our two kingdoms and while I know what has been lost can never be forgotten or forgive, I hope perhaps that was can start on a better foot,” Chris says, bowing his head slightly to her.

Laura nods, “I hope so as well. Enough blood has been shed and enough families have been damaged because of this feud. On behalf of my people, I thank you for your hospitality and hope we can start over for better.”

“Please, you must be tired after your long journey. My people will show you to your quarter and provide anything asked for,” Chris says and servants come swarming out of the shadows to start leading the way, others branching off to start bringing luggage.

Stiles slips away with Lydia and Danny to wait for when they will be needed to make an appearance.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we finally get to meet Laura. Cora was kind of a last minute entry into this fic. I wasn't sure if I should have her because originally, I was planning on having Peter be beside Laura when they arrive but decided to have him hunt down Gerard instead. She's not going to play a big part in this fic. Also, Gerard's trial, so yeah that's finally come and up next, the ball. I've taken a few comments into consideration for when I write those scenes, so look forward to that as well.

“I just came to give you the schedule of things,” Allison says, looking harried from most likely running around seeing that all the royal and noble guests are seen to properly. She looks like she could use a breather. She holds out a rolled up parchment that Lydia takes, quickly sliding the ribbon off.

“Gerard’s trial is set after the talks start,” Lydia comments, arching a brow.

“Father figured it might be smart to have started the talks to show that we are serious before we have the trial. There’s a lot of bad blood there,” Allison says softly. She looks at Stiles, “You will be called on to tell you side of events in front of everyone as well as what happened during the war.”

Stiles swallows softly but nods. “Thank you, I know this must be hard,” Allison says remembering the state Stiles had been in when they finally got to him that night. “Father has also arranged days off from the talks with entertainment and such to help everyone relax. He’s sparing no expense.” In other words, Chris is draining the royal purse to keep another war from being possible for a while to come. “The ball to be held for the talks will also act as your introduction ball. I hope you’ll let me dance with you,” Allison says with a grin.

“Of course, and Lydia and Danny as well,” Stiles says with a smile at Allison and the other two where they sit nearby.

Allison sighs, “I really must go. There are still some people to be seen to and you won’t believe how much luggage they brought with them.” They say goodbye to her and spend the rest of the afternoon going over the schedule to see what they would and wouldn’t be joining.

The trial is a given and the first day of talks as well. Stiles has already decided to attend all the talks, despite knowing they’re most likely going to be boring. He refuses to be ignorant of what is going on around him.

Besides that and the ball, there’s not much he wants to see. There are a few tournaments planned, and other entertainments, but Stiles has never really enjoyed those kinds of activities. He’s planning on spending most of his time in the royal library, trying to read as much as he can before the talks end and he goes back home.

~*~

The talks are taking place in a large room filled with chairs, benches and tables filled with food and drink. The sun shines through large open windows to let a breeze through the stuffy room crammed with people. The first day, almost everyone is there to watch. Most likely, as things drag on, fewer will show.

In the center, a large table is set up for Chris, Allison, Laura, Derek, and Cora, all dressed for comfort since it plans to be a long day of sitting and debating about what the treaty will allow. Stiles himself is tucked away closer towards the windows with Lydia and Danny. They’re close enough to hear what is being said.

The arrangement of everyone is meant to allow anyone to add a comment or an opinion about what is being discussed, but the room is mostly silent but for a few who are well versed in this political dance besides the royals.

By the end of the session, Stiles head is buzzing with everything he took in. It wasn’t exactly like he imagined it would be. There certainly wasn’t much yell or even raised voice. They seemed to have it a good point what they discussed because they agreed fairly quickly with what was proposed with only a few heated discussions. Stiles doubts it will stay this cordial as they get into the finer details.

There is still light out so Stiles and Danny decide to take a ride after spending so much time indoors. Lydia declines, wanting to stay and talk with Allison about something. The sun is almost finished setting by the time they get back.

Stiles isn’t expecting the group that greets him when they come back coated in a light dust and sweat from the afternoon warmth. Lydia and Allison are seated across from Laura, Derek and Cora, drinking tea and having polite conversation.

“Oh, um…hello,” Stiles says, fidgeting with his riding gloves that he had just finished taking off before realizing just who exactly he’s talking to and making a jerky bow.

Laura smiles, covering it with her hand and nodding back. Derek doesn’t say anything and Princess Cora just snorts softly, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be back in a moment,” Stiles murmurs before quickly walking to his room to change and clean up.

The three Hales are still there when he returns, changed and cleaned up and Stiles steels himself for the conversation to come. He takes a seat next to Lydia and she hands him a cup of tea with a small smile of encouragement.

“You must be Stiles,” Laura says once he’s seated. “I have heard a lot about you from both Derek and his Betas. I have wanted to meet the Omega who was willing to destitute himself for the sake of his people. There are not many who would do that.”

“I just do as my father raised me, your majesty. He taught me to always care for my people, no matter what it took,” Stiles mumbles, looking down at his cup.

A hand enters his field of vision and forces his chin up to see Laura smiling kindly at him. “There is no reason to be nervous Stiles. I am here to thank you. If it had not been for your selfless act, this war might have gone on longer than it did. Tell me, how are things back at your home? I am sure you have not been idle in preparing for the spring planting.”

Stiles flushes, but nods, explaining all he has done to prevent their near starvation from happening again. Laura sits and nods along, adding comments and offering advice. She includes Lydia, asking the human Alpha about her plans and what she has done to help bring the fort back to its fullest.

The other two Hales are quiet, not commenting but seeming to follow the conversation with knowing eyes. Danny is off to the side, not even paying attention to the conversation, just reading a book by the fire. It is nearing dinner time by the time the talk starts to dwindle, Stiles’ voice becoming hoarse after so much talking.

Laura smiles in the pause of conversation. “It has been pleasant talking with you Stiles and you Lydia. I hope that we may do this again. At the moment, it seems we must leave to go dine. Good evening,” Laura says, nodding to them. 

“But, what about…” Stiles starts to say but Laura just shakes her head and says “Later,” before they stand and the three humans follow and bowing to the woman. The three Hales leave the room.

Stiles stares after them. “I never got to ask about surrendering to her,” Stiles says softly, voice trailing off.

“You’ll just have to wait until later to bring it up then,” Lydia says. “Until then, we need to get ready as well. We have a dinner to attend.” She walks off to her room to get changed.

~*~

The day of Gerard’s trial dawns gloomy, dark clouds having rolled in the night before to blanket the sky. The spring rains are due any day now and the clouds do look like they might burst any moment with rain.

The talks have already been going on for a few days and the trial has been set on one of the rest days. Stiles himself is a ball of nerves over his part in speaking in front of so many people. He just hopes he doesn’t make a fool of himself.

The trial is to take place in the throne room. Tiered benches have been set up along both sides for the people come to watch. For those who will be testifying, a separate bench is placed to the side for them to sit. Two extra thrones have been set aside just for Laura and Derek. Cora had decided to not sit through the trial.

The trial begins with naming the accused, despite the fact that Gerard isn’t there to stand trial. His crimes are listed, as are Kate’s, though she is dead and since buried. Once the man has finished speaking, the witnesses of Gerard’s plans and his guilt come forward. Allison is first, telling everyone present what she knew of Gerard and how he had tricked her father with her faked death to start the war.

Others come forward, maids and other servants who had been present when Gerard was scheming. Stiles is called somewhere in the middle. He’s forced to stand and talk in front of all these people. Taking a deep breath, he does, explaining how he had sent message after message asking for aid for his people and was denied every time. How he took all their able bodied men for his army despite knowing that their fort would most likely be one of the first ones the Triskel forces attacked, leaving them weakened and defenseless.

He tells about the war, how he brokered a deal with Derek and his army to surrender in exchange of aid for his starving people, about the fighting and wounded, what help he could provide to them. He tells briefly of the group sent after him and later of Kate kidnapping him and using Kanima venom to paralyze him and learning of Gerard’s plans for him, of his rescue, and then the death of Kate and Gerard’s escape. By the time he stops, his throat is dry and his knees have stopped shaking.

He takes his seat back on the bench as more people are called forward. Some come forward with admissions of guilt in helping Gerard plan or aiding him. They are seated on a different bench to wait for their own sentencing. Finally though, there is no more to say.

Chris stands in the quiet of the room. He turns to Laura. “For all that my father has done, I can only ask for your forgiveness. I know I am not guiltless in all that has happened but I still hope that one day, amends can be made.” Laura nods towards him but doesn’t say a word.

Sighing softly, Chris turns towards those gathered. “As King of Argent, it is my right to pass judgment upon my father, Gerard Adrian Argent. As of this moment, he is stripped of all titles and familial ties. He is banished from Argent and should he ever step foot in this kingdom, will be executed for crimes of high treason against Argent and Triskel. So as it is said, so shall it be. Should it be found that anyone has aided him in returning to Argent, they shall suffer the same fate as he.”

The room is silent as his words ring out. Stiles can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, a little knot of tension in his chest loosening at Chris’ word. Soon after, people start to leave, filing out of the throne room. As Stiles catches up with Lydia and Danny, he glances back to see Derek staring at him, eyes unreadable. He turns away quickly, not wanting to read too much into the look.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. Things are heating up a little as well as getting confusing for the two oblivious boys. Thanks for all the lovely comments as usual.

The talks continue on and though Stiles goes to each of them, he can’t help but feel restless. He’s just sitting there, watching others shape history around him. It’s interesting but he can’t keep his mind from wondering or his eyes for that matter.

He keeps watching the three Hales, studying them. Cora, he’s not sure what to think of her. He never heard anything about her from when Derek was at the fort. Though Stiles assumes it was for her safety. He’s only met her the one time and she seemed very aloof and out of his reach, if he ever tried to reach for her, which he doesn’t.

Laura…Laura is what he imagines all queens should be like. Regal, proud, with their heads held up and keeping all the men who try to control their lives on puppet strings. She’s like a force of nature and Stiles can’t help but admire her for the way she refuses to back down in the face of the Argent representatives that surround her at the table.

Derek, well, Derek is a different topic altogether. He’s not sure what Derek feels about him and vice versa. During the war, it seemed as if the Alpha might have actually cared about him, but now that he’s with Laura and no longer fighting a war, he seems to fade beside his sister’s pull, like he wants to remain out of the public eye. The fact that he hasn’t even once spoken to him since they arrived puts a shadow on what Stiles thought their interactions were like.

Maybe he was wrong and Derek was only acting that way to get Stiles to cooperate with him to win the battle. It’s not like Stiles was expecting anything from their meetings. What he told Derek that one time might have been in anger, but it was true. Stiles was just some Omega that Derek met during war and it seems he has moved on now that the war is over.

“Then why did he say all those things about you, and protect you and race after you when Kate took you?” his mind whispers back at him. The thing is, he just doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what Derek is like outside of war, if the way he acted was normal, or something else. He doesn’t know and part of him wants to find out, even if he’ll never get the chance.

As the talks end and Stiles is leaving, he can feel Derek’s gaze on him, but this time, he doesn’t turn to look.

~*~

“Will you stop twitching,” Lydia snaps, closing her book sharply and turning to glare at him. They’re settled in to the main part of their room after a small simple meal for dinner. Stiles has tried reading already but he can’t get his mind to settle.

“Sorry,” Stiles mutters with a small sigh.

“If you’re so wound up, why not go for a walk to calm down?” Lydia suggests with an arched brow, nodding towards the door.

Huffing, Stiles stands and setting his closed book aside, he heads for the door, grabbing his cloak and sword before he leaves. The war may be over, but he hasn’t forgotten his lesson the last time he forgot his sword.

The palace has calmed down some. Most of the noble and royal guests have retired after a long day of talks that had descended into a huge arguing match over trade rights that Stiles doesn’t even want to get involved in.

The servants are still up though, busy seeing to the running of such a large place and so many guests. He tries to find a quiet place to think but they’re everywhere. Finally, he gives up on finding a place inside and heads outside for the palace gardens that are just starting to bloom as spring advances.

Picking a trail at random, Stiles starts to walk, enjoying the fresh air and the smell of growing things. He’d gotten a letter the other day from Heather about how things were going back at the fort. Spring planting was underway now that the fields had been furrowed and the rains had come finally, raising the river. She had said that the irrigation system was working, bringing water to the fields. With the extra water from the river and the rains, the harvest would have plenty to grow.

That had taken a load off of his mind. His people were recovering and healing from hardship. And while being here for the talks was enlightening and he had access to more books than he could imagine, he couldn’t wait to return home to familiar fields and woods and people he actually knew.

He’s been approached by quite a number of nobles he only knows by family name because of their crest they wear. Most of the time, he’d felt awkward trying to have a conversation with them, especially when it came to current happening in the palace. Half the time he doesn’t know what they’re talking about and the other half, he decides to put his foot in his mouth an offend them.

As of the moment, there have been no marriage proposals, but there have been…stares. He’s felt the eyes of some people on him, watching him from afar. He’s still not sure whether he likes that or not.

Stiles is so deep in thought that he doesn’t realize how far he’s walked in the large gardens until he looks up and realizes, not only is he lost, he can’t tell which direction he came from. “Lydia’s going to laugh at me for this,” Stiles mutters under his breath and tries to backtrack the way he came.

Except he can’t really see much in this dim garden. He starts making random turns on trails, hoping he’ll find a familiar landmark in all these large flowering hedges and trees. He’s not expecting to stumble upon a shadowy figure siting on a stone bench under one of the trees.

“Oh, um, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Stiles says quickly, taking a step back to start to turn around. He’d seen another turn a little back. Maybe that might lead him somewhere else.

“You really shouldn’t be out here right now,” a familiar voice says and Stiles turns to see glowing red eyes watching him from the bench.

“Oh, um, De…I mean Duke Hale. I didn’t realize that was you,” Stiles says, heart beating a little quicker. It’s the first time he’s been alone with Derek since that awkward goodbye back at the fort. “I know, it’s late out, but I couldn’t sleep and now I seem to be lost.”

Derek snorts softly. “That’s not what I meant,” he says and the red eyes shift to look at the sky where the full moon hovers over the palace gardens.

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Stiles mutters, shifting on his feet. “Are…are there others about?” Stiles asks, looking to see if he can see any other pairs of glowing eyes.

“No. Laura had the others sequester themselves in their rooms, just to be on the safe side and told the servants not to enter the rooms until morning,” Derek reassures.

“But you’re out here,” Stiles says, looking at the shadowy shape. Even with the moon light he can’t see much, just a vague outline of his face.

“I never liked being cooped up during the full moon. Laura knows this and knows that I have complete control over myself during these times,” Derek assures, thinking that Stiles might be fearful.

“Well, I guess it would be a bit stifling to stay inside on such a nice night,” Stiles says simply.

“I can show you the way back,” Derek offers, standing gracefully.

“Would you, I’m completely turned around,” Stiles admits, feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

Derek doesn’t say anything else, just starts to walk away and Stiles follows, trying to keep from falling on his face at Derek’s fast pace. They walk in silence for a while before Stiles starts to recognize where they’re headed and can see the walkway that borders the gardens and leads further into the palace.

There are a couple of torches burning nearby, lighting up a small area. Derek stops just on the edge of the light turning to look at Stiles. “I trust you can find your way from here,” he says.

“Yes, thank you,” Stiles says with a nod.

Derek starts to turn away and the light catches on a thin golden chain around his neck and a small golden bird in flight hanging from it. “Oh,” Stiles murmurs softly and then flushes, covering his mouth, hoping Derek hadn’t heard him.

Derek glances back at him, “What?” he asks and Stiles curses the man’s enhanced hearing.

“Nothing,” Stiles mutters, turning away.

“I can hear when you’re lying,” Derek tells him and Stiles curses in his head again.

“What?” Derek asks again.

“I just…I noticed that you’re wearing…well, that necklace I gave you,” Stiles mutters, not looking at Derek as he says it. “I figured you would have thrown it away or something.”

Derek shrugs. “It seems to be lucky so I decided to keep it,” Derek says. “It’s not like it was meant as anything else.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess not,” Stiles says, feeling his heart drop a little. “Good night, Duke Hale.” Stiles flees before he can make an even bigger fool of himself, hoping Derek won’t hear the way his heart is beating way too fast.

“Stiles, what wrong?” Lydia asks, looking up from her book as Stiles stumbles into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Nothing, I’m just tired. I’m going to bed,” Stiles mutters, not looking at his cousin as he walks to his room and shuts himself inside.

~*~

Derek watches Genim walk away, his heart beating fast. He can smell the confused hurt coming off of the Omega. He sighs heavily, walking back towards his resting place.

He’s not expecting to find Cora sitting in his spot; her golden eyes watching him approach. “You know you’re being stupid,” she says succinctly, not even batting an eye.

“Probably,” Derek says with a shrug.

“You know, you’re only hurting yourself by pushing everyone away,” she adds.

“He deserves someone better,” Derek says.

“Maybe you should let him decide what he wants for himself,” Cora says with a huff before flouncing away from Derek before he can make a remark. Grunting in frustration, Derek settles back on the bench, his mood ruined. His hand strays to the bird, touching it gently as he stares at the moon.

~*~

Lydia spends the next few days watching Stiles like he’s about to break or something. Stiles ignores her and continues on with life. He goes to the talks, listens to them, goes to the library and reads books, sometimes he finds Deaton and spends the afternoon practicing magic and refuses to let his mind even contemplate the idea of Derek.

This lasts for a week. Finally, Lydia corners him in his room and demands to know what is wrong with him. “Nothing,” Stiles mutters, looking away.

“I don’t even need to be a werewolf to tell that you are lying,” Lydia says softly, grabbing his chin gently and tugging to make him look at her. “Hey, talk to me.”

Stiles sighs, “I guess I just realized how stupid wishful thinking was.” Stiles swallows the lump in his throat and refuses to let his emotions rule him.

“Oh Stiles,” she says softly, pulling him closer.

“I want to go home,” Stiles mutters into her shoulder, hugging her. “I feel so out of place here. I don’t know anyone and they all look at me like I’m some sort of oddity.”

“We can go if you want. I can talk to Allison. I’m sure she’ll understand,” Lydia says softly.

“No,” Stiles says. “I said I’d stay for the talks and I will. They’re almost finished with them. Just a little longer and then we can go.”

“Are you sure?” Lydia asks, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“Yeah,” Stiles says with a wan smile. Lydia sighs but nods all the same. She steps back and lets him walk away.

~*~

“How do I look?” Stiles asks, stepping out of his room. Lydia smiles taking in his outfit that was specially made for the ball. The cream undershirt and red tunic with embroidery and braid are made of the finest materials and fitted just to him. With dark brown hose and polished boots and belt, he looks every bit the young nobleman.

“Wonderful, the tailors really did an excellent job,” she says.

“You look good too,” Stiles says, taking in her pastel green dress. It makes her eyes sparkle all the brighter and her hair to shine like fire.

“Well, come on Lord Stilinski, it is time for you to be presented to court,” Lydia says with a smile. Stiles grins and holds out his arm, letting Lydia take it and leading her out. Danny follows behind with a soft sigh, dreading trying to keep track of the two of them tonight and knowing they’ll end up doing some sort of mischief tonight.

~*~

“Relax, Derek, it’s just a ball,” Laura hisses to her brother softly enough that only he can hear it. “Not life or death.”

“I never wanted to come here,” he huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Too bad. We need to keep a unified front for these people and that means we all appear. Why can’t you do like Cora and relax and dance?” she asks, nodding to where their sister is dancing with one of the Beta lordlings.

“Maybe I don’t want to dance with anyone,” Derek hisses back, turning away.

“Maybe there’s one person you’d like to dance with,” Laura says softly as he walks off. Derek’s shoulders stiffen but he doesn’t turn back and continues on.

~*~

“My palms are sweating,” Stiles hisses softly to Lydia as they finally walk into the ball room. Everyone is watching them.

“Buck up, Stiles. Just relax and have fun. Now, dance with me,” Lydia says imperiously, gripping his arm and leading him out onto the dance floor just as the string quartet strikes up a new song. Stiles obliges and lets her lead, the Alpha keeping him from making a fool of himself by stepping on her feet.

He actually forgets about the people watching him for a little while, just enjoying dancing with Lydia. He’s winded and thirsty when they finally finish the set and they step aside to grab a glass of wine from a passing servant carrying a tray.

Danny appears a few minutes later with his own glass and they talk for a few minutes, watching the other nobles. Stiles glances to the side and sees Jackson standing stiffly at the edge of the room. Stiles nudge Lydia in the side gently. “Maybe you should go help him loosen up a little?” Stiles says with a grin.

Lydia follows his gaze and sees Jackson as well. “Maybe I should,” she says and presses her glass into Stiles hand before walking towards the Beta. He’s not sure what she says, but the Beta werewolf startles at her words. They stand for a few minutes talking before he sees Jackson huff but lead Lydia towards the dance floor.

“Do you want to dance?” Stiles asks Danny, looking at the knight.

“Not for all the money in the world,” Danny says. “I know all about your two left feet.” Stiles grins and laughs softly, poking at Danny.

~*~

“Oh, look who it is,” Laura says sometime later after finding Derek sulking in a dark corner. Derek stiffens and turns to see Genim and Lydia walk through the double doors arm and arm and then start dancing.

“They make a lovely pair, don’t they?” Laura asks.

“They’re related,” Derek huffs out turning away to continue glaring out a nearby window.

They stand in silence for a while before Laura speaks up again. “He’s just standing there. You should go ask him to dance,” Laura offers with a smirk.

“Leave it, Laura,” Derek growls softly.

“I can just see the other Alphas circling him like a fresh piece of meat. If you don’t do something, he’ll be gone for good,” Laura says softly.

“I said leave it,” Derek grits out harshly. He storms away, headed for the doors that open out into the gardens and away from the press of bodies and heat. Laura sighs, watching her brother stalk away, shoulders stiff with tension. She turns to see Genim dancing with the Argent daughter.

~*~

“Are you having fun?” Allison asks as they dance.

“Yeah. I’ve never been to something like this. There are so many people,” Stiles admits.

“I’m glad you like it. You deserve a little fun,” she says with a grin and steps back as the music stops and curtsies to him. Stiles bows with a smile and they walk over to where Danny is standing off to the side watching over Stiles.

They find Isaac, Lydia and Jackson already there, talking and eating small finger foods. Stiles and Allison join in, catching up on the topic of the moment. Stiles isn’t sure how long they’ve been talking when the others fall silent and look behind him. Frowning, he turns to see Laura standing behind him, smiling at him.

“Lord Stilinski, would you care to dance?” she asks.

“Oh, um, yes,” Stiles stammers out and takes her hand. He glances back at the others but none of them say anything. Lydia just raises a brow with a shrug. Laura pulls him close as the music starts and takes the lead.

“I’ve wanted to talk with you for a while now after our chat from before,” Laura admits to him as they dance. “It’s been so hard to find any time to think let alone pursue other activities. How are things back at your home?” she asks.

“Oh…um, well, things are going well. The rains came on time and the spring planting has happened. So hopefully, if all goes well, the harvest will be good this year,” Stiles says, relaxing under a familiar topic.

The Laura throws him for a loop. “Tell me Lord Stilinski, what do you think of my brother?”

“What?” Stiles squeaks out, voice going a little high.

“My brother. What are your thoughts on him?” Laura asks, turning him with the dance.

“Um…he…is nice. He is loyal to his pack and keeps his promises. Um, he’s strong…and…and I don’t know what you want me to say, your majesty,” Stiles finishes with a huff, flushing a little.

“I just want your honest opinion of him from your experience with him,” Laura says frankly.

“Honest opinion, well...I think he puts too many expectations on his shoulders, like...he needs to prove himself. But he’s has a good heart, despite all the armor he has around it. And he refuses to give up, despite the odds against him. He is a good man, even if he is as grumpy as a hibernating bear that got woken up too soon,” Stiles says simply.

“Thank you, for your words. Not many would think so highly of him,” Laura admits.

“I think it’s the face,” Stiles admits. “He’s always frowning. If he would just smile more, he might look friendlier.”

Laura throws her head back and laughs at his words. “True, my brother is that,” Laura says as they come to a stop, the music ending. “Thank you for the dance Lord Stilinski,” Laura says.

Stiles bows to her and she nods. “Your majesty,” he murmurs.

Stiles feels a little shaky after his dance and flees back to the group that has grown to expand another of Derek’s Betas, Scott. He talks with them some more, eating lightly and drinking a few more glasses of wine.

He dances with a few more people, a few Alphas and a Beta asking him to dance. He does and he’s feeling warm and loose from the wine as he dances. He glances up once during one of his dances over his partner’s shoulder to see Derek watching, just leaned up against the wall in a shadowy patch. Stiles can’t see his eyes, but he can feel them.

Flushing a little, he looks away, focusing on his partner of the moment as they talk about some new fashion or other. It’s nearing midnight by the time he’s able to excuse himself from the ball. Lydia and Danny follow. They retire the moment they get back to their rooms. Stiles doesn’t think he could sleep, but the wine helps him to. He doesn’t remember what he dreams.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are probably rolling on the floor with how many times I've updated recently. I'm sort of in a good stride right now with this fic and I'm steamrolling ahead, hoping to get this finished by next week since next week is spring break and I've got time on my hands to work on it. I wanna finish it so I can start working on the next part. XD Enjoy and most likely there will be another update sooner rather than later.

Stiles wakes up with a slight headache and a nauseous stomach. Groaning, he rolls out of bed and stumbles to the wash stand to splash some water on his face. He looks in the mirror and sees himself look back looking tired.

He’s dressed in practice clothes and more awake when he finally comes out of his room some time later. Lydia is sprawled across a couch, still in her sleep clothes and tucked up under a blanket reading a book. “Where are you going? It’s a rest day,” Lydia asks, eyeing Stiles over her book.

“Need to do something. Has Danny left for the practice courts already?” he asks, buckling on his sword.

“Yes, left not too long ago. Here, these arrived this morning for you,” she says motioning towards a vase of flowers that rest on top of a small table pressed against a wall.

Stiles goes over to investigate. He can’t find anything that indicates whom they’re from. “Do you know who sent them?” Stiles asks with a frown, looking at Lydia.

“I think the whole point of not signing a name is meant for it to be a secret,” Lydia says with a huff. Throwing off her blanket, she stands and comes to stand next to him. “They’re laying it on a bit thick, though,” she says, fingering one of the flowers.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks, looking at her.

“Don’t you know the language of the flowers?” she asks and Stiles shakes his head no. Sighing she explains it to him. “Gloxinias mean love at first sight. Gardenias represent a secret love and daffodils are for unrequited love.”

Stiles is bright red by the time she finishes. “Why would someone send me this?” Stiles asks.

“This is fairly standard in the capital from what I’ve been able to piece together. A suitor sends flowers anonymously and if the receiver likes them, they wear one of the flowers to indicate they would like to continue. What happens after that depends on the people. Some keep sending flower messages, others do gifts and such. I’m actually surprised more haven’t appeared before this one,” Lydia muses.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” Stiles hisses.

“Do you want to keep going this exchange going?” she asks, looking at him.

“I…I don’t know. I never expected something like this to happen. I would prefer to meet someone face to face and take my time. What do I do?” he asks her.

“I’m actually not sure how to say that,” Lydia admits. “I’ll ask Allison on what you should do next. She might know how to ask for more time without causing an incident. Now, I believe you were going somewhere.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back later,” Stiles says absentmindedly, still thinking on the flowers as he leaves to head for the practice courts that Danny goes to in the morning.

There are a few people there already when he arrives, most paired up or with a practice dummy. Danny is by himself off to the side. What he’s not expecting is to see Derek there as well with one of his Betas. Refusing to turn tail and flee, Stiles ignores the Alpha and walks over towards Danny.

“Spar with me,” Stiles says to his knight once the man finishes his most recent exercise.

Danny shrugs and nods, “There’s padded armor in the shed over there,” he says and the two walk over to grab some as well as practice swords. Once changed, they square off. Stiles pushes the awareness of everyone away and focuses on Danny.

He’s not as good as Danny, but then he’s only recently restarted learning and he never got very far with it when he was younger, not like Danny has who wields the blade like it is connected to him. They start moving, just exchanging easy blows, building up speed and momentum.

Stiles enjoys these moments with Danny. It forces his mind to stop overthinking and let his body take over. For a short time, he doesn’t think about anything and any troubles just go away. He doesn’t win of course, but he doesn’t make a fool of himself either.

Stiles is dripping sweat by the time they finish. “Not bad,” Danny says with a smile. “I’m a good teacher.”

“You’re just fishing for a complement,” Stiles says with a grin, sheathing his blade.

“Not really. You still need a lot of work to be any decent sort of swordsman. Also, you’ve gotten sloppy since we’ve been here. Your foot work was off. Do I need to reteach you?” Danny asks as they walk towards the shed, shedding their armor.

Stiles laughs, “Maybe when we get home. I’m just here because I wanted to burn off some energy.”

Stiles looks up to the sound of someone clapping and sees Laura watching from the side of the practice field. She waits until they get close before talking. “You are full of surprises, Lord Stilinski,” she says with a smile.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Stiles murmurs, blushing in embarrassment at having an audience.

“You are a good swordsman, wouldn’t you say Derek?” Laura asks, looking behind them where the man himself is walking up.

“He’s passable,” Derek says gruffly. “Why are you here?” he asks Laura.

“I came to collect you for a late breakfast, brother dear, since you decided to get up early to come out here,” Laura says. She suddenly smiles, “Perhaps you would like to join us, Lord Stilinski?” she asks.

“Oh, um, I don’t want to be a bother,” Stiles tries to deflect.

“Oh, it is no bother. I would be glad to have your presence there. Perhaps you could bring the Lady Martin as well as you, Sir Knight,” Laura says, looking at Danny.

“Your majesty honors us,” Danny says easily, bowing to her.

“Then I guess it is settled. Come by our rooms in say, half an hour,” Laura says.

Stiles wants to say no, not wanting to have to stay near Derek and feel uncomfortable but there’s no easy way to say no to her. And he can’t lie, not when she can hear his heart. So Stiles agrees, bowing to her and waving as the two Hales leave.

~*~

Laura greets them at the door when they knock. She lets them in with a smile. The rooms given to the Triskel royal family are larger than their own and come with its own dining room. Derek and Cora are already seated when the step into the room. The table is spread with a small feast of breakfast foods.

“Please, sit, no formalities here,” Laura says and takes her seat. Stiles, Lydia and Danny follow suit and tuck in, piling their plates up.

“Did you enjoy your first ball?” Laura asks as they eat.

Stiles is stuck with a mouthful when she asks and is forced to chew and swallow before he can speak. “It…was interesting,” Stiles admits.

“Oh, I’m sure you had all the unmated Alphas vying for a dance with you,” Laura says with a wink at him.

“Oh, um, I don’t really know about all of them, but I did dance with a few other people,” Stiles admits, feeling his cheeks pink.

“Did any of them catch your fancy?” Cora asks suddenly, looking at him.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles asks.

“Were they’re any you liked?” she asks. “There were certainly some good looking humans there,” she says with a smirk.

“I…I wouldn’t know, I mean I just danced with them once and we only talked briefly,” Stiles says not sure what to make of the two Hale women who seem so suddenly interested in his love life.

Stiles jumps as suddenly Derek’s tea cup shatters, sending shards of porcelain and tea everywhere. “Sorry, I’ll clean that up,” Derek mutters and leaves to grab a towel. Stiles turns to see a thoughtful look on Laura’s face, like some idea has come to her.

“He did receive some flowers last night,” Lydia supplies smugly.

“Lydia!” Stiles hisses, trying to kick her in the leg with his foot but he misses and ends up hitting his foot on the chair, stubbing his toe.

“Oh, someone must have liked you. Did they say who they were from?” Laura asks.

“It was nameless,” Stiles mutters, promising to get back at Lydia for saying anything.

“So a secret admirer,” Laura says just as Derek walks in. The Alpha has a look on his face like he bit into something nasty. He doesn’t say anything as he cleans up the spill.

“Do you plan on reciprocating?” Cora asks.

Stiles fidgets with his napkin for a second before answering. “I don’t know. I don’t know who sent them. I guess I’m not really good at this flower courting thing. I prefer to see someone face to face, to get to know them and then go from there. This flower code thing is so confusing,” Stiles says softly.

Derek has finished cleaning the mess up by the time Stiles finishes. “I need to go talk with my Betas about something. Good day,” Derek says, bowing slightly before leaving the room with the towel in hand.

Stiles says good bye softly, watching Derek retreat from the room. He’s suddenly not very hungry and picks at his food the rest of breakfast, listening to the others talk and adding a few words here and there. “Thank you for the meal,” Stiles says as they ready to leave and head back to their rooms.

“We should do it again,” Laura says with a smile and waves as they leave.

“Stiles?” Lydia asks softly as when they get to their rooms.

“I’m alright. I think I’ll read for a bit,” he says and disappears into his room.

~*~

It’s just after lunch and Stiles still hasn’t left his room. Lydia peeks in to find him asleep on the bed, book resting beside him where it had fallen. He looks troubled, even in his sleep. Firming her jaw, Lydia leaves and goes to find Laura.

She finds her after a few false starts from asking the servants if they had seen her. The Alpha werewolf is strolling along in a flower garden. Laura looks up at her approach. “Your majesty, might I talk with you in private?” Lydia asks, keeping her face blank.

“Of course, this way,” Laura says and leads the way further into the garden.

Lydia follows and once they’re alone, starts to pace for a moment before turning to face the other woman. “What are you planning?” Lydia asks sharply. “And please don’t patronize me, your majesty, I am not some airheaded woman,” Lydia says when Laura goes to speak.

Laura stared at Lydia for a moment before nodding. “Tell me, what you think of my brother?” she asks.

Lydia shrugs, “He likes to play the dark and mysterious card a lot. He’s a good fighter and leader, loyal to those he chooses to give it to. A bit of an idiot, but most men are.”

Laura sighs and settles onto a nearby bench. “I love my brother and I just want to see him happy. But he seems to have gotten this stupid idea in his head that he doesn’t deserve to be happy,” Laura says as Lydia takes a seat beside her.

“So you think throwing Stiles at him will make him happy?” Lydia asks sharply, growing tense.

“You have only seen the Derek of now. But I remember him from before our parents died. He used to be so happy, always smiling. After the fire, I thought I had lost that side of my brother for good. And then he comes home from the war with this look on his face like he’s thinking of something nice and smiling just a little. It took me a while to figure out what had put that expression on his face,” Laura says softly.

“And you want to throw Stiles at him,” Lydia states again.

“No actually, on the contrary, I’m trying to keep Genim from him. You saw it this morning, didn’t you? My brother was jealous at just the thought of Genim dancing with another Alpha. I’m hoping that if he gets jealous enough, he’ll wake up and see what he’s letting slip through his fingers,” Laura says frankly.

“Were you the one that sent those flowers?” Lydia asks.

“No, but I think we can use it to our advantage. What are Stiles thoughts on Derek?” she asks.

“Stiles…thinks he doesn’t have anything he can offer Derek. I’m still trying to figure out where he got this idea that he’s not good enough for someone,” Lydia grouches out.

“But he does care for Derek?” Laura asks.

“Yes, though he likes to pretend he doesn’t. Unfortunately, I know my cousin well and can read him like a book,” Lydia says.

“Do you think we could get them to see it for themselves?” Laura asks.

“We can’t force them. Stiles is as stubborn as a mule when someone tries to make him do something against his will,” Lydia warns.

“We won’t. If all goes to plan, those two idiots will think they thought of it all on their own,” Laura assures with a smile.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A plan doesn't go exactly as they hope. Almost there guys. There are 3 or 4 more chapters to go. Fingers crossed that Derek finally pulls his head out of his butt.

Stiles sighs, shutting the book with a smile. He loves books and could spend hours just reading. Standing, he goes to put it up in the vast library, running his fingers along the spines as he goes. He reaches up and pushes it back into place from where he had pulled it from hours before.

He rubs ay his eyes, only now just realizing how late it was. It was dark outside, no light coming through the windows and candles were lit to give light to the late night readers, such as himself. Deciding it was time to go to bed, Stiles starts to turn back the way he comes and nearly yells out loud at the shadowed figure standing behind him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Stiles says as he takes in the older man standing behind him.

He smiles good naturedly. “No, I am probably at fault for not saying anything to say I was here,” he says his voice deep and he smiles, teeth white against his tan skin.

“Is there something you needed?” Stiles asks as the man continues to stand there and block his exit.

“Yes and no, I was actually wondering something and was hoping you might answer,” he says, taking a step forward. Stiles tenses, taking a step back, not liking the way this is turning.

“I can try,” Stiles says, eyeing him warily.

“Why did you not wear my flower?” he asks and takes another step forward, large and bringing himself into Stiles’ space.

“You were the one who sent them?” Stiles asks, frowning.

“Yes, did I not make my intentions clear? It has been driving me crazy all day, wondering what your answer was. Now answer it please,” he says, reaching a hand out to try and grab Stiles’ wrist.

“Stiles,” someone says behind the man and Stiles looks up to see a glowering Derek giving the death glare to the man cornering Stiles. “Lord Greenburg,” Derek says softly, the threat clear in his voice.

Lord Greenburg takes a step back, hands up to seem less threatening. “I’m sorry, things got a little carried away in the heat of the moment,” he says.

“Perhaps you should leave and go cool down then,” Derek says and steps aside, jerking his head to indicate that he should very much leave.

Greenburg glances once between Derek and Stiles before nodding. “Lord Greenburg,” Stiles says softly and the man turns, looking hopefully at Stiles. “My answer is no.” The man jerks as if slapped and then storms off, shoulders stiff with tension.

“Oh man that was awkward,” Stiles mutters under his breath, running a hand over his face. He peeks up to see Derek still watching him. “It seems you are forever going to come to my rescue,” Stiles says with a small smile at the man.

“If you weren’t so trusting of everyone, you might not fall so easily into these situations,” Derek says with a huff.

“I think of it more as seeing the good side of everyone,” Stiles says with a shrug. He steps forward, out of the corner he had been backed in. “I’m not as paranoid as some people,” Stiles says with a look at Derek who just shrugs at the comment.

Stiles presses forward and pecks Derek on the cheek. “Thank you,” Stiles says softly. Before Derek can react, he ruffles his hair and jumps back with a laugh. “Besides, I know under all that muscle and gruff exterior is a good person,” Stiles says as Derek tries to fix his hair and glare at Stiles at the same time. “Good night, Duke Hale,” Stiles says and leaves before Derek can comment.

His heart is beating a mile a minute at his actions. Yet he can’t help but grin. He wonders if anyone else had done what he just did, if Derek would have done anything but glare. He doesn’t know and he’s not sure where that sudden bold streak came from, but he’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Lydia just arches a brow as he walks into their rooms, a bounce in his step. “You’re in a good mood,” she comments.

“Oh, just a good day and all,” Stiles says. He walks over to where the vase of flowers has been sitting for a while.

“What are you doing with that?” Lydia asks.

“Oh, the man who sent it finally came forward. He’s a creep who doesn’t know about boundaries, so I told him no and I’m leaving these outside to be taken away,” Stiles says with a shrug, awkwardly carrying the large vase in one arm to open the door. He sets them to the side of the door so no one will trip on them and shuts the door.

“Well, cousin dear, good night,” Stiles says and walks off to his rooms. Lydia just watches his retreat and wonders what brought on happy Stiles.

~*~

“A hunt?” Stiles says skeptically.

“Yes a hunt. You’ve know about this since we got the list of everything that would be happening,” Lydia says.

“I know about it, I’m just wondering why you think I want to go? Don’t get me wrong, I like meat as much as the next person. Doesn’t mean I want to kill cute fluffy rabbits and deer to get said meat,” Stiles says with a wrinkle of his nose at the thought of killing cute woodland animals.

“Normally, I would agree, but both Allison and Laura have asked us to join them on the hunt and I’m not sure who would be the worst to say no to. And also, I refuse to be dragged out there by myself. Now, go get ready, we need to leave in half an hour,” Lydia says, arms crossed as she stares him down. Sighing, Stiles does as directed.

Their horses are already saddled and waiting for them by the time they get to the main courtyard of the palace. Danny is already mounted, holding the reins for the horses. Stiles sighs but pulls himself up onto the horse.

Around them, others wait for the signal to head out. Stiles is surprised when quite a few people nod and wave, bidding him good morning. He just nods and smiles, not wanting to say something stupid and embarrass himself.

Chris’ arm goes up, signaling the group to go and Stiles can only follow, grumbling softly about being dragged along. Lydia just ignores him, moving slightly ahead of him and Danny.

They ride for a while, heading further into the surrounding forest towards where the hunting is better. Both Chris’ royal huntsmen and one of the Betas that came with Laura lead the way, looking for tracks. Stiles is just starting to grow bored when he looks up to see Laura maneuvering her horse closer.

“Oh, your majesty, good morning,” Stiles says with a small smile.

“Lord Stilinski, good morning to you. Are you enjoying yourself?” she asks once she is close enough to ride beside him.*

“To be honest, this isn’t really my idea of fun,” Stiles says with a shrug. “Hunting shouldn’t be a sport, it should be for necessity.”

“A very good philosophy to live by,” Laura says with a small smile. “Which is why I asked that all animals felled today be given to the poor so they won’t be wasted.”

“Oh well that’s different,” Stiles says, looking ahead. He frowns when he spots Derek and his Betas riding together. None of them carry weapons. “Why don’t they carry anything to hunt?” Stiles asks.

“They don’t need them,” Laura says simply and lifts her hand to let her claws peek through.

“Oh…OH, yes, I guess that would come in handy. Certainly more convenient instead of carrying around heavy weaponry,” Stiles says.

“Yes, but have you ever tried to clean blood from beneath your nails, it is not easy,” Laura says with a grin. Stiles snort and they ride on in silence for a while.

“Why is everyone acting weird around me?” Stiles asks softly, watching as an Alpha up ahead waves back at him, trying to catch his attention.

“Um, well, it would seem your little encounter with Lord Greenburg has gotten out. And then people saw you put his flowers out to be thrown out and the gossip mills have been churning about how if an Alpha is to get your attention, they need to something bolder and such. I’m afraid you might be getting a lot of dead animals shown to you today,” Laura says, trying to keep from laughing.

“What? Why would they think that? I don’t want to look at dead animals like their some sort of gift,” Stiles mutters the last part.

“That is if they catch any first. It is an ancient custom in both kingdoms. If an Alpha wanted to woo an Omega, they would bring down the largest game they could to show that they can provide for them. Unfortunately, things have changed greatly since then and not many realize that this might be the wrong way to go about wooing,” Laura says with a chuckle.

Before Stiles can comment on that particular news, a whoop goes through the hunters, many dismounting and starting to run ahead as word of tracks being found trickles down. “It would seem something has been spotted. Perhaps we should stay back and wait here,” Lydia says as more people stream by.

A small group hostlers remains to watch the horses while Stiles and the few other nobles who remained dismounted to settle on provided blankets to talk and snack on food and wine. A few hours go by with no one returning but hearing the occasional horn blow.

“Excuse me,” Stiles mutters, “Nature calls.” Laura and a few of the ladies with them laugh.

He’s just finished going to the bathroom when a horn blows nearby, starling him. Something crashes through the bushes and Stiles can see it coming his way.

Stiles pulls out his dagger the moment the boar comes crashing out of some nearby bushes. He can’t dodge quickly enough and he can only pray his strike lands as he throws the dagger a few seconds before the boar plows into him, bowling him over and knocking the air from his lungs.

They go down in a shower of leaves and dirt, yells filling the clearing as people stream in realizing what has happened. “Out of the way,” someone yells out and then hands are pushing the boar off of him.

Stiles is surprised to see Derek and his Betas standing over him. “Are you hurt?” Derek asks softly.

“No…” Stiles coughs, “Just feel like one giant bruise at the moment,” Stiles says, accepting the hand Derek offers and rising slowly to his feet.

“It’s dead,” Scott says, looking at Stiles and then the dagger protruding from the boar’s chest. “You got it in the heart.”

“He’s lucky it didn’t gore him,” Chris says, coming up, pushing through the gathered people. “It seems Lord Stilinski has brought down the biggest animal today. It looks like we’ll be having boar for dinner tonight.”

As the people cheer, Stiles walks away, back towards the others. “Are you alright?” Lydia asks, running shaky hands over Stiles.

“Fine, can we just go now?” he asks.

“Of course. We’ll go ahead and let the others deal with their kills. Let me just tell my father we’re going,” Allison says and runs off to tell the king their actions.

“Next time, dodge,” Derek mutters from behind Stiles.

Before Stiles can say anything back, he and his Betas are leaving, headed back towards the downed boar. “My brother, the idiot,” Stiles hears Laura mutter under her breath.

Allison comes back and they pack up and leave. Stiles is aching horribly by the time they arrive back at the palace. He has a bath drawn and soaks away some of the pain. He asks to be excused from dinner since he’s tired and Lydia nods, offering to have some food brought to him. Stiles eats lightly when it arrives, savoring the boar and then falls into bed, trying to find a comfortable position.

~*~

“Well, that certainly didn’t go how I expected it,” Laura says with a sigh as she and Lydia take a stroll through the gardens.

“We never could have accounted for a boar nearly disemboweling him,” Lydia says with a sigh.

“I was hoping that with the wolf so close to the surface, it might help him get over his stupidity and try and compete with all the others vying for Stiles’ attention. That was genius though, that rumor. They were all falling over just trying to get him to wave at them,” Laura says.

“So what now?” Lydia asks.

“It seems I must do something drastic to get my brother to wake up,” Laura says with a sigh.

“You don’t mean?” Lydia says, stopping to look at the Alpha queen. Laura just nods. “If this backfires and he doesn’t act accordingly, will you still follow through with it?” Lydia asks, a glint in her eyes as she waits for Laura’s answer.

“I will,” Laura assures.

Lydia sniffs in disdain, “I hope for your sake, your brother isn’t as stupid as he’s acted so far.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, 2 chapters in a row. This one is a little short but the next 2 chapters will make up for it. Finally things have resolved themselves and up next is the important day.

Stiles is just leaving his room, headed for the talks when a servant comes running up to him. “My lord, I have a message for you,” she says with a small curtsy. Stiles takes the folded parchment with a nod of thanks.

As she leaves, he opens it and sees it’s from Laura. “The talks have been cancelled for the day due to a pressing matter that must be seen to. Please come to my rooms as soon as possible,” she writes, her words neat and precise across the parchment.

Frowning, Stiles folds up the parchment and tucks it into his pocket before turning around, heading in the opposite direction towards Laura’s rooms. He knocks and then shifts from foot to foot, nervous about what could have caused the talks to be cancelled and for Laura to call him.

He’s not expecting to see Allison open the door, nor for Chris, Derek, his pack, Cora, Lydia and Danny to be there as well. At least he’s not the only one here who looks confused. Derek and his Betas look like they have no idea what is happening. Lydia though looks like she knows but she always has a way of knowing.

“Good, the last one is here,” Laura says and motions for everyone to take a seat.

Stiles settles next to Lydia and Danny, waiting for Laura to get to the point. “I know some of you are confused about the cancelled talks but there were something that needed to be discussed before being brought forth in the talks. I have discussed this with Christopher and we both agree this is something that would benefit both kingdoms,” Laura says evenly, looking around the room.

“What are you getting on about, Laura?” Derek asks, frowning.

“We have both agreed that a union between both kingdoms would benefit between smoothing things along. Sort of a symbol that both sides are willing to make peace,” Laura says with a shrug. “I have asked you all here to witness this before the union is announced.”

“I offer my daughter, though either of you may say no,” Chris says and Stiles can see how it pains him to offer so much.

Laura shakes her head. “That is a generous offer, but there is too much bad blood still between our houses. Besides, you have only just gotten her back. I would not want to create any more tension between us by taking her from you so soon after,” Laura says.

“Laura,” Derek hisses.

“Derek, hush,” Laura reprimands him softly.

“Then who do you have in mind?” Chris says, his shoulders losing a little of the tension they had in them at her words.

“There is one that has been on my mind for some time now and since it seems others have either been unsuccessful or unwilling to get him, I feel I should try myself,” Laura says with a small smile and glances at Stiles.

“What?” he asks, voice rising a few octaves, feeling a flush spread over his face.

“Stiles, would you be willing to consider me as a mate?” Laura asks, face serious, voice firm as she looks at him and only him, waiting for an answer. “You can say no of course. No one will force you to say yes.”

“Laura, you can’t,” Derek hisses and Stiles jerks his gaze to look at Derek.

“And why is that, brother?” she asks, voice icy.

“Because you as well as I know that our laws forbid a political marriage for the Head Alpha. You can only mate if you truly love them,” Derek hisses back.

“Some laws can be bent, and I am sure I could grow to love him. I care for him already as it is,” Laura says.

“You expect our people to take kindly to that?” Derek says back. “You’ll lose a lot of support from the older packs, possibly even face a rebellion if they feel you are not fit to rule. Are you willing to do this?” Derek asks.

“If it means it can help bring peace, so be it,” Laura says.

Derek growls under his breath and then sighs, “I’ll do it. I’ll take your place.” The room is silent at his words.

Stiles heart has been beating wildly following the conversation between the two siblings, but at Derek’s words his heart skips and then drops to the pit of his stomach. Both Alphas turn to look at him and he knows they heard his heart beating erratically. “Excuse me,” Stiles whispers, standing before anyone can stop him and rushing out of the room. Lydia glances at everyone and then stands to follow her cousin.

~*~

She finds him a few minutes later in a nearby garden, sitting on a bench, his hands fisted beside him and his breathing erratic. “Stiles,” Lydia says softly.

“He doesn’t want my Lydia,” Stiles says softly, looking up at her, eyes damp. “For a second there, I thought he might but he’s only doing it for Laura, so she doesn’t break some law. How am I supposed to deal with that?” he asks, voice husky with suppressed emotion. “I mean, if I say yes, how do I live the rest of my life with someone who hates me for forcing them to marry?”

“You can say no,” Lydia reminds him.

“Except I can’t. If peace really does hinge on this union, how could I say no?” Stiles asks, frustration evident in the redness of his cheeks.

Lydia sighs and takes his hand, forcing his fist to unclench and curl around her hand. “Stiles, you have every right to say no. I don’t care if the world is relying on you to say yes. You can say no if you truly don’t want to marry him or anyone else. And before you decide that Derek would be so miserable being mated to you, perhaps you should talk to him about how he really feels. I bet you’ll find things to be not so bleak as they seem.”

“Can I have a hug first?” he asks and she just laughs softly, dragging him in close to wrap her arms around him.

~*~

The others are all talking quietly amongst themselves as the two walk in. All eyes turn to them, waiting for an answer. “Can I speak with Derek alone?” Stiles asks softly.

Laura nods and motions for Derek to follow Stiles out of the room. The Alpha follows silently behind Stiles. He takes them back to the garden Lydia found him in and once there, turns to look at Derek. “I just have one question,” Stiles starts and Derek nods waiting.

“Do you want this?” Stiles asks.

“I’m doing this for Laura,” Derek starts.

“No, that is not what I asked. I don’t want to know why or for whom or any other stupid answers you can spout. I want to know whether you want to be mated with me, because I’m tired Derek. Tired of having to read between the lines of what you don’t say and your silence and your glares and your kind words that leave me more confused than anything else. Do you want to be mated with me, because if you don’t then I refuse to be mated with someone who will hate and resent me for the rest of my life just because they did the politically correct thing,” Stiles rants, chest heaving by the time he finishes.

Derek just stands there, staring at him with a pained expression on his face and remains silent. “I guess that’s my answer. Goodbye Derek,” Stiles says, deflating and turning away to leave. He won’t be staying for the rest of the talks. He wonders how long it will take to travel to get home on horseback.

Behind him, Derek growls loudly and then a hand is grabbing his arm, spinning him around and pressing him up against a nearby wall gently. Derek stares down at him intently, eyes red as his wolf comes to the surface. 

“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you. But you’re too good for me and I don’t deserve you. You should be with someone who isn’t blood stained and weighted down by his mistakes, but I’m tired of being selfless and all I want to do is be selfish and take you and never let anyone else have you. I want to be mated with you,” Derek says softly.

“Maybe you should let me decide for myself who I want to be with,” Stiles says softly, hands fisted in the front of Derek’s shirt. Derek just snorts in laughter. “And maybe you should kiss me,” Stiles says quietly, looking up at Derek.

Derek just presses forward gently, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Stiles arms slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him close. He pulls away with a laugh, “You’re the most stubborn, infuriating, selfless Alpha I’ve ever know,” Stiles mutters.

“And you’re the pushiest, most annoying and the strongest Omega I’ve met as well,” Derek mumbles back, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Looks like we were made for each other,” Stiles says with a laugh. “We better get back, I’m sure the others are going out of their minds about what we decided.”

“Fine,” Derek says, backing up to give Stiles some space. The Omega just grabs his hand and tugs him back down the hall towards where the others are waiting.

The moment they walk in, Laura just gets this huge grin on her face and Lydia smirks at them. They stop in front of the group, Stiles flushing a little. “Yes,” he says softly. Derek nods beside him.

“Then it is settled. We’ll announce the union during the talks tomorrow,” Chris says and then the others converge on them, congratulating.

“I know you had something to do with this,” Stiles whispers to Lydia as she hugs him. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me by letting me plan the ceremony,” Lydia says with a smirk.

~*~

The rest of the day is spent talking about what will happen and such details that need to be discussed. Stiles asks the most important question, “Where will I be staying?” Because he doesn’t want to leave his childhood home but he doesn’t want to force Derek to leave as well.

“Well, seeing as how you surrendered your fort to us, it would seem wise for a Hale to occupy it,” Laura says with a smirk at Stiles.

Stiles turns to look at Derek, “I don’t mind,” he says softly to Stiles. Stiles smiles up at him as a thank you.

“That reminds me, I will need to send a letter back home with the good news and to tell them we will be here for a bit longer than originally planned,” Laura says, standing to go to her writing desk. Lydia stands as well to follow.

“We need to start planning now if we want to be ready any time soon,” Lydia says and the two women put their heads together to start whispering, Cora, Erica and Allison soon joining in.

“Do I want to know what they’re talking about?” Stiles asks, eyeing the group of women.

“No,” Derek says back, his hand still in Stiles’ hand.

“I think I’ll leave now, and talk things over with my staff and send them any help they might need,” Chris says, standing up. “Congratulation,” he offers and then leaves, shutting the door behind them. By the time the women look back, the room is empty of Derek, Stiles, Danny and his Betas. Shrugging, they go back to their plans.

~*~

The union is announced before the entire court at the talks and Stiles and Derek are forced to stand before them. They wait and listen to those gathered as the talk over their monarchs. Many seem to be for the union, only a few sour notes ruining the moment, but since both Laura and Chris have agreed to the union, no one can stop it.

Stiles and Derek move off to the side to take a seat and are forced to listen as the people gathered argue over how to evenly divide their lives basically from now to the future. Stiles squirms in embarrassment as they talk about children and rights and Derek places a heavy hand on the back of his neck, grounding him and distracting him from the talks.

Stiles stills and presses closer to the Alpha in thanks. By the time the talks are over, Stiles is wrung out. “Can we go somewhere quiet?” Stiles asks and Derek nods, leading him from the room.

They end up in the library on a small couch in a shadowy corner of the vast room. Stiles is tucked up under Derek’s arm, breathing slowly. “You know, any children we have will be considered heirs to the throne until Laura has children of her own,” Derek murmurs.

“I know,” Stiles says.

“I don’t care what those busybodies says, whatever you want is what will happen,” Derek says softly, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“I know,” Stiles says with a small smile, enjoying the peace and quiet.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINAL CHAPTER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and this one is a doozy (originally it was supposed to be 2 chapters but I made it 1 instead) and just so people don't complain because I didn't warn them, this chapter is **EXPLICT** and has man on man butt sex and they should avoid basically the last half of the chapter if they don't want to read that. 
> 
> Also, included is a small snippet of the next part which won't be going up for a while. Sorry, but I'll start working on it so that I can start posting it sooner or later. 
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments and all the kudos and I hope you'll continue with the next part.

Stiles tries to hold himself still as the seamstresses attack him with cloth and needles, pinning him into a new outfit. “Again?” Stiles whines, glaring at Lydia who is standing off to the side, eyeing the women’s work as they move about him.

“This is your wedding Stiles and you will look your best,” Lydia says with a shrug, motioning for the woman holding up a sample of cloth to hold up a different one.

“How come Derek doesn’t have to do this?” Stiles whines.

“He will be after you finish and no you can’t be there to watch,” Laura says, coming in.

Stiles pouts and doesn’t comment back as they finish pinning him in and then proceed with the painstaking process of removing the clothing without sticking him with the needles. Now that he’s no longer physically needed to make the clothing, Stiles makes a mad dash for the pile of his clothing he had made and drags his clothes back on.

Laura and Lydia wave him off, still talking with the seamstress’, pointing at various things on a table they are standing around. Stiles motions for Danny to follow him out. He takes a deep breath the moment they leave the room, glad to be free.

Derek is walking towards them on his way for his own fitting. “Lydia and Laura are in there,” Stiles warns him and Derek gets this look like he’d rather fight an entire army then be in there with those two.

“Thanks for the warning,” Derek says with a small smile at Stiles, hand coming up to brush against the side of his neck softly, just a fleeting touch. “I better go before they start to yell,” he murmurs, dropping his hand and walking away with one last glance.

“I always wondered when this would happen,” Danny says as they continue their interrupted journey. Stiles raises an eyebrow at him in question. “When you would finally meet someone who would strike you mute,” Danny clarifies with a laugh at the indignant look on Stiles’ face.

“Oh hush,” Stiles snaps at him with a glare.

They continue on in silence for a few minutes. “So, how are you holding up?” Danny asks, glancing at the Omega.

“I’m still a bit in shock,” Stiles admits. “I never…I never…,” he starts.

“Expected to be marrying someone?” Danny finishes.

“Yeah,” Stiles says in a rush. “I mean, I know people get married younger than I am, but I always felt like it would never happen or it would be later in life. I mean we hardly got visitors to the fort and the ones we did were old family friends and already mated. I didn’t have much of a group to pull from.”

“There were plenty of Alphas that visited the fort, Stiles. Maybe it was just that none of them were able to catch your eye the way Derek did,” Danny says with a shrug. “It just means your picky.”

“Oh hush,” Stiles says, elbowing his knight in the side. He pauses after a few minutes. “I still can’t believe that I’ll be married in a week,” Stiles whispers.

“You’ll be excellent, just like you are with everything else,” Danny says, giving him a hug in a rare display of affection with his charge. “Beside, I’m looking forward to not being the only person keeping an eye on you so you don’t get in trouble. I’ve had my work cut out for me all these years.”

“Must you make fun of me,” Stiles yells as Danny laughs and Stiles shoves him away, walking off with the laughing knight following him.

~*~

A week flies by in the blink of an eye. The only things he can really recall are the infrequent moments he was able to steal away with Derek and the signing of the treaty between Argent and Triskel and the only reason he remembered that was that there was a lot of wine and drinking and many of the people there had gotten drunk on the celebrating that had ensued.

But now, now he’s here, pacing his rooms as he waits for Lydia to come get him. He had been expressly forbidden to leave this room until she or Danny came to get him to guide him to where the ceremony would be taking place in the throne room.

He’s wearing probably the finest clothing he has ever owned. He can see the significance of the colors. Wearing black and Hale blue, he is wearing the colors of his soon to be family. Along the collar and cuffs of his jacket, triskels in thread the same blue as the jacket are embroidered, a subtle declaration of where he will stand from now on. But a small bit of Stilinski red and gold stand out in his undershirt, the green and gold embroidery of his own family crest sewn into the sleeves on both arms, a reminder of where he came from, of whom he came from.

The only thing that puts a dampener on this day is the one piece that is missing. He misses his father and this day is only a reminder that his father wouldn’t see him married or meet any of his grandchildren that would come in the future. Any would think he would want his mother there, but she died when he was just a child barely able to walk and talk. He doesn’t remember her though he has her diary and a portrait painted of her in his possession.

Stiles is jerked from his depressing thoughts by a knock on his door and then Lydia is opening it, stepping through. “It’s time,” she says with a smile.

Stiles nods and she leads him out, holding his hand tightly. She shows him to an anteroom to the throne room. Chris is waiting for him there. He has offered to walk Stiles down the aisle in place of his own father whom Chris had known from his younger years.

Lydia gives him one more look over, nodding her approval and then leaves to find her spot at the front of the room where Allison is waiting, his two maids of honor next to Danny, his ever present protector in his ceremonial armor.

“Ready?” Chris asks, looking at Stiles.

Stiles squares his shoulders, “As I’ll ever be.” Smiling at the Omega, Chris offers his arm and Stiles takes it and waits as music starts playing on the other side of the large double doors and then they open and all eyes turn to them as they start to walk down the aisle towards where Laura and Derek are waiting for him. Beside him stands his pack, all smiling.

He wears his family colors as well, though the triskels are more obvious in their dark blue thread. What Stiles isn’t expecting is the green and gold Stilinski crest sewn into his jacket, next to his own crest. A show of equality in their union.

Stiles’ heart is somewhere in his throat but he pushes on, keeping his eyes trained on Derek who is looking back at him, at the small smile on his face that helps settle Stiles down a little. When they reach the end, Chris just squeezes his arm and lets him go to take a step towards Derek.

Derek takes his hand and leads him the last few feet to stand in front of Laura, hand in hand. “As both Derek’s sister and his Queen, it is my right to wed him to his chosen mate. Derek, as you stand before your mate and your pack as witnesses, do you love Genim and come to this union willingly?” Laura says, voice carrying across the packed room.

“I do,” he says, looking at Stiles. He doesn’t look away as Laura continues.

“Genim, before your family and friends, do you love my brother and come to this union willingly?” she asks Stiles.

“Yes,” Stiles breaths out, hands shaking ever so slightly, gripping Derek’s hands the only thing keeping him grounded.

“With this union, two families shall become one,” Laura says as Lydia and Scott step forward. Scott holds a red cloth. Together, they tie it around their wrists, binding them. “And with this union, a symbol of hope and peace shall shine the way for others to follow.”

“Derek, Genim, with this cloth, you shall be tied together until death. As mates, you shall live as equals, both responsible for the other and all that comes with them. From this point onward, you are one and whole. You may kiss,” Laura says with a grin.

They press together, their bound wrists between them as the two kiss to cheers from the assembled crowd. Stiles laughs when they pull apart. Laura steps forward and gently unties the cloth. “Welcome to the family, Stiles,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

~*~

The gathering moves to the ball room where food, dancing and merriment abound as people celebrate the hopefully long peace between two kingdoms and the union to tie them together. The dancing doesn’t start until Stiles and Derek have the first dance, so the two are forced to take to the dance floor, though neither really complains.

By the end of the dance, the others have joined in. Stiles is startled to see Lydia dancing with Jackson but not as surprised as he should be. Allison is talking quietly with Scott as they sway together. Boyd and Erica are pressed together, just shifting from foot to foot as they breathe each other in. Even Danny is dancing, now out of his armor and talking quietly with Isaac as they move.

He wants to question them all, but for the moment, he lets it lie and just enjoys the moment. At the end of the dance, Derek leads him to a table while the others continue dancing. He leaves for a moment to get food and comes back with a piled plate, the two sharing it and talking quietly as they watch everyone else dance.

Stiles is pulled away by Lydia to dance and Derek by Erica, his Beta smirking at him. Stiles loses track of how many times he dances and with whom. He remembers dancing with Derek as well, but by the time he realizes how much time has passed, it is dark out and the candles and torches are being lit to let the humans see.

Stiles is leaning heavily against Derek as they just shift from side to side, the day finally catching up to him and making him sleepy. Stiles has to force himself to pay attention to Derek. “What?” he asks softly.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Derek asks softly. “You look dead on your feet.”

Stiles heart picks up and suddenly he’s wide awake at Derek’s words. He can feel himself flushing as he realizes what exactly comes next. “I…um…if you want,” Stiles says, keeping his face turned down.

“Relax Stiles. I will do nothing that you do not want,” Derek says softly, pressing a kiss into his mate’s temple as they slowly come to a stop. Stiles takes a deep breath to calm himself down and nods, letting Derek lead him over to where Laura and some of the others are seated, eating and talking.

They bid them goodnight, the others ribbing them good naturedly and bidding them goodnight as well. Derek leads the way out of the ballroom, gripping Stiles’ hand lightly. “Where are we going?” Stiles asks as they take a different direction than either of their rooms is in.

“Argent had separate rooms set aside for us,” Derek says, tugging Stiles along until they come to the right door and slip inside. The fire in the hearth is already lit and candles burn softly around the room. Once the door is closed, Derek turns to Stiles and smiles.

“I never imagined this would happen,” he admits, his hand falling to Stiles’ neck and his thumb caressing along his jaw. “I always saw myself alone after what happened. I felt it should be my punishment for letting my heart rule me. And then I met you. You suffered along with your people, were willing to do anything for those whom you swore to protect and faced down me at my worst. You crawled under my armor and made a place for yourself here,” Derek says, grabbing Stiles’ hand and placing it over his heart. “I’m glad you did though.”

Stiles smiles, pressing closer to wrap his arms around Derek’s torso. “You saved me and my people that day as well. Had you not come, we would have likely starved to death before Gerard ever did a thing. And you kept saving me, despite the world trying to kill me,” Stiles says softly into Derek’s shoulder. The Alpha squeezes tighter at the reminder of all the times he nearly lost Stiles. “You were honest with me when other Alphas would have just pushed me aside as just some overemotional Omega. You won my respect and my heart and I’m glad things happened the way they did.”

“What do you want Stiles?” Derek asks softly, pulling back to look at Stiles.

“I…I want everything,” Stiles says with a swallow, hands fisting in the sides of Derek’s jacket.

Derek nods. “Go to bed, I will be there in a moment,” he says and Stiles nods, stepping away to make his way over to the bed, slipping out of his jacket, boots and belt. Derek walks around the room, blowing all the candles out until the only light left is the fire in the hearth.

He comes back to the bed to find Stiles stripped down to his under shirt and tights seated in the middle of the bed and fidgeting with the ties of his shirt. Stripping down to just his tights, Derek crawls onto the bed, Stiles jerking his head up at the movement.

His face is flushed, his hands trembling slightly where they clench around the shirt strings. “There’s no reason to be scared Stiles,” Derek says softly, scooting closer and sitting back on his legs.

“I’m not afraid,” Stiles mutters, “Just nervous.”

“We’ll go slowly,” Derek says and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to the Omega’s lips.

Stiles sighs, at last knowing what to do with this after many kisses already shared with Derek. He leans into it, enjoying the feel of soft lips and stubble prickling his skin. It takes him a moment to realize that sometime between Derek first kissing him and his eyes opening after closing, he ended up lying back on the bed, Derek hovering over him.

“Hi,” Stiles says with a smile, looking up at Derek a little cross-eyed at how close the Alpha is.

“Hello,” Derek murmurs back, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ cheek with a smile.

Stiles jerks a little when warm fingers slip under the hem of his shirt, just resting against his skin. As his heart beat easies a little, Derek presses upwards slowly, fingers barely a caress at he gently lifts the shirt up. Stiles sucks in a small breath and then reaches down, grabbing the garment and pulling it off in one fell swoop.

Derek pulls back, looking the Omega over and Stiles shifts restlessly, not wanting to be stared at. “Beautiful,” Derek murmurs softly, smiling down at Stiles who flushes at the endearment. Derek just kisses him again and Stiles opens up a little, letting the Alpha slip his tongue between his lips, deepening the kiss.

Stiles makes small sounds of encouragement at the back of his throat as Derek licks into his mouth, memorizing every nook and cranny, the taste and textures to be found there. Stiles is panting by the time he pulls away, his hands now buried in Derek’s hair.

Stiles snorts a small laugh and Derek arches a brow at him in question. “Your hair is kind of messed up,” Stiles says and laughs some more at the way Derek’s hair is going every which direction after being held onto.

Derek growls playfully digs his fingers into Stiles’ sides in retaliation, making the Omega jerk and laugh harder, wiggling in vain to try and get away from Derek’s tickling fingers. “No, no, stop,” Stiles cries out breathlessly around his laughing.

Finally Derek stops and Stiles collapses to the bed, breathing hard on his stomach. Derek is pressed all along his back, a wall of warmth and security against the outside world. The Alpha leans down and presses a kiss against the side of Stiles’ neck right where there is a mole just behind his ear.

He presses another one just below it, starting a trail that leads down his back slowly until the Omega’s breath is catching in his throat and he’s making small sounds of arousal even as he tries to stifle them. Derek’s reaching for Stiles’ tights as he nears his tailbone, starting to pull them down.

Derek jerks up, looking for a threat as the Omega’s heart starts to pound wildly, his breathing erratic suddenly. There’s no one in the room but them. “Stiles, what’s wrong?” Derek asks, bending down to bring Stiles’ face into view.

Stiles’ eyes are screwed shut, his hands clenched into fists in the sheet below them, his knuckles nearly as white as the sheet. “It’s nothing, sorry,” Stiles mutters, not opening his eyes.

“Stiles, look at me,” Derek says, fingers touching Stiles’ cheek softly as if he’s afraid to touch harder and somehow hurt the Omega. Stiles opens his eyes but can’t look Derek in the eye, staring at his chin instead. “I can hear the lie in what you said. Whatever it happened was not nothing,” Derek says, frowning.

“I’m sorry, it was just a bad memory,” Stiles says softly.

Derek frowns, trying to figure out what could have caused Stiles to react in such a way. Then it clicks and he feels like a fool. “Stiles, was it…did that Argent soldier…did he force you?” Derek asks, lump in his throat and his wolf howling for revenge even though the man is long since dead.

Stiles is flushing in shame, hiding his face under his hands, turning away slightly. “No,” he mutters, “At least not completely.”

“Did you tell anyone about it?” Derek asks, his hands clenched into fists as the feeling of uselessness overwhelms him. He could have prevented this, he knows he could have. Had he been faster, or not reacted so that day, maybe things would have been different.

“Lydia and Deaton knew because he looked me over,” Stiles admits.

“We don’t have to do this now, Stiles,” Derek says, Starting to pull away, trying to not touch the Omega.

“No!” Stiles says, eyes wide as he flails out to grab Derek’s wrist, keeping the Alpha from pulling away completely. “I spoke truthfully when I said I wanted this. I just…I just want to erase that memory,” Stiles says, trying to explain it in a way Derek can understand.

“Stiles,” Derek says softly.

“I want this,” Stiles insists, “Just, maybe not from behind,” Stiles mutters, cheeks getting red.

“Are you sure?” Derek asks softly.

Stiles nods vigorously, hand clutching Derek’s wrist tighter as if afraid that Derek will disappear. Derek sighs softly, gently prying Stiles’ hand from his wrist and drawing the Omega closer. “Come here,” Derek says softly. Stiles comes willingly until he’s seated across Derek’s lap, knees on either side of his hips. He kisses the Omega softly and Stiles’ presses back, hands coming up to run through Derek’s hair.

“Perhaps you should take these off yourself,” Derek says softly after they pull apart.

Stiles nods quickly and they pull apart, both quickly stripping down to nothing but their skin. Stiles flushes bright red when he looks back to see Derek completely bare. “Come here,” Derek says softly, holding a hand out.

Stiles takes it and lets himself be pulled until he’s back in Derek’s lap and he gasps softly at so much skin to skin contact, the feel of Derek’s cock pressed into the crease of his hip and thigh. “Can I touch you?” Derek asks, hands resting on Stiles’ waist and not moving anywhere.

“Yeah,” Stiles says softly, pressing his head into the crock of Derek’s neck. Derek lets his hands slide up Stiles’ back, just a long stroke, coming back down and back up, just feeling his skin, the bumps of his spin and ribs.

Moving around to the front, he brushes down his stomach and back up over peaked nipples, making the Omega gasp softly against his neck. He remains there for a few minutes, just teasing the stiffening flesh and making Stiles squirm, making soft noises.

“Derek,” Stiles says softly, voice strained.

Derek moves on, lower and Stiles’ breath speeds up the closer he gets to the Omega’s weeping cock, the organ erect and pressing into his stomach. A finger run gently down the length has the Omega shuddering against him, hands fisting in Derek’s hair tightly at the sensation. A growl rumbles through Derek’s chest, liking the hair pulling.

Grasping the stiff flesh, Derek tugs once, running his thumb over the head and gathering the precum there to ease his fist. Stiles cries out, arching against Derek and pressing even closer and tugging on Derek’s hair, pulling his head up so he can press a desperate kiss to his lips as Derek continues to stroke up and down, drawing Stiles closer and closer to the edge.

Stiles keen as his orgasm rams through him unexpectedly, his back bowing tautly, shuddering through it leaned up against Derek’s chest. As the last shock waves dissipate, he collapses against Derek’s chest, Derek’s arms coming around to hold him up.

They’re quiet for a few moments as Stiles catches his breath. “That…that was very nice,” Stiles admits softly. Derek laughs quietly, shoulders shaking and jostling Stiles’ pliant body. “I wouldn’t mind doing that again,” Stiles says in a hushed voice, smiling against Derek’s shoulder.

“Same,” Derek says back, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ sweaty temple. Derek’s hand slides down but stops, hovering just above Stiles’ tailbone, “Can I?” he asks.

Stiles nods, a little nervous, but still riding the endorphins from his climax and still pretty relaxed.

Derek slides his hand down, caressing and cupping the curve of his ass and squeezing gently making Stiles squirm some at the feeling that tugs at something in his gut. One of his fingers slips into the crack and brushes up against his hole that is slightly damp.

“Oh,” Stiles says softly, something lighting up inside him. Derek doesn’t do anything, just leaves the finger there and lets Stiles adjust to the feeling. “Okay, yeah, you can...,” Stiles starts out but can’t finish as Derek rubs his finger back and forth, just teasing the rim and lighting up the nerves there.

Derek presses gently and slowly, trying to keep from triggering Stiles. Stiles just hums against his neck where he’s started to kiss the skin there and presses down a little, forcing Derek’s finger to go deeper. “I won’t break,” Stiles says softly.

“Maybe I just like to go slowly,” Derek says, still pressing that one finger in until he hits the last knuckle. Stiles is wet inside, but not wet enough to continue without something to smooth the way. Outside of heat, his body doesn’t make enough lubricant to smooth the way completely.

Stiles whines when Derek pulls his finger out, chasing the digit with his hips. Derek leans back, reaching for a side table beside the bed where a small bottle rests on it. Grabbing it, he forces the cork out and pours a generous amount of oil onto his fingers, slicking them up before corking the bottle again and setting it back where it was.

Stiles is sitting back on his hunches, just watching Derek. Stiles presses closer, pressing a kiss to Derek’s stubbled cheek and grabs his slick hand with his own slightly shaking ones and guides it back to where it was. Taking that as permission, Derek presses his digit back into Stiles, the act smoothed by the oil.

It doesn’t take long to reach three fingers, Stiles’ body opening for him willingly. There’s a brief moment where Stiles freezes, fingers clutching desperately at Derek’s arms, his heart beating frantically and Derek freezes, not moving a muscle, waiting for Stiles to tell him when he can move again. A drawn out few minutes later, Stiles breathes raggedly and nods.

Derek nods back, kissing him and distracting him as he continues to stretch the Omega open. Before long, Stiles’ hips are hitching slightly, seeking more and Derek pulls his fingers out and looks at Stiles. “How do you want to do this?” he asks, hand resting on Stiles’ hip and his thumb rubbing up and down in a caress.

Stiles grabs Derek by his shoulder and pulls him forward as he falls back until the Alpha is hovering over him on hands and knees staring down at him. Stiles has been nearly silent up until this point, only making a few noises. He looks up shyly at Derek, “I want this,” Stiles states again.

“Okay,” Derek says and presses one more kiss against his kips. “I love you,” he says quietly, barely a whisper but Stiles still hears it and smiles up, mouthing the words to Derek.

Lowering himself down, Derek goes slowly to keep Stiles relaxed. Gripping himself, he presses in slowly, taking his time, keeping an eye on Stiles’ face to gage when he needs to stop and let the Omega adjust. Stiles just stares back, pupils huge, his breath hitching as Derek presses in and in until there’s no more to go.

Derek just stays there, waiting for Stiles to give the go ahead. “Derek,” Stiles whispers, voice wrecked, “Please move or do something…anything.”

Derek gasps softly and pulls back just as slowly before pushing in again. He builds up a steady rhythm. Stiles’ hand grabs at Derek’s wrist, pulling his hand up so he can twin their fingers together, needing something to ground him.

He’s making these little noises that are just driving Derek insane, but he keeps a rein on himself. “Come on,” Stiles hisses out, hips hitching up hard and Derek just breaks, pressing in harder, though still with some semblance of control.

He can feel himself edging closer to his climax, the knot just starting to form. “Stiles,” Derek grits out, “It’s still your choice. In or out?” he asks, giving Stiles the choice that few Alphas would offer to their mates on their first mating. Derek refuses to become like them. ‘Like Kate,’ his mind whispers.

“Yes,” Stiles breaths out, hitching his hips up, feet pressed flat against the bed until he can shove Derek all the way inside. Derek growls and just lets loose the last few thrusts, hitting Stiles’ prostate dead on, the knot catching on his rim before Derek finally presses home, the knot pressing in and locking them together.

Stiles cries out, clawing at Derek’s back as the knot expands and stretches him until he’s sobbing softly, his hips shifting, trying to get enough friction on his cock to climax. Derek growls again and circles his hips, the knot pressing up against Stiles’ prostate and pushing the Omega over again a second time.

The Omega’s channel clamps down on his knot and Derek finally reaches his peak, his orgasm washing through him like a tidal wave, sweeping him away for a little while. He comes back, blinking slowly, feeling light headed and like nothing bad can happen.

Stiles shifts and tries to cover a wince as his leg cramps at holding the same position for so long. Derek worms his arms under Stiles, cradling him as he slowly turns them over until he’s on his back, Stiles sprawled out on top of him and able to stretch his legs out a bit. “Thanks,” Stiles says softly, smiling at him.

Derek rubs his hands up and down Stiles back, lulling the Omega into a light doze as they wait out the knot still tying them together. He’s not sure how much time has passed, lost in a doze of his own. The knot deflates quickly though and he slips out of Stiles, the Omega whimpering in his sleep due to the sensitivity.

“Stiles,” Derek calls softly, and Stiles opens his eyes a few seconds later. “I need to get up for a second,” Derek says and Stiles nods, rolling off of Derek’s chest to curl up on his side. Derek gets up and walks to the wash stand to grab a wash cloth and wets it, coming back to gently sponge away the mess. “I’m going to check to make sure there’s no bleeding,” Derek says and Stiles nods, bracing himself as Derek does a quick check and finding no blood.

Finished, Derek tosses the cloth and climbs back into bed, pulling the blankets up over them and spooning up behind the Omega, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him. One of his hands instinctively falls to rest on Stiles’ lower abdomen. “You know, you’re most likely pregnant,” Derek says softly, waiting to see the Omega’s reaction.

Stiles nods sleepily, a hand clumsily moving to rest against Derek’s hand where it rests. “I figured as much seeing as how that is what mating is meant to accomplish,” Stiles says with a smile. “I hope you weren’t expecting something else.”

Derek presses a laugh into the back of Stiles’ neck. “You’re going to be the bane of my life, aren’t you?” Derek asks fondly, drawing abstract shapes over Stiles’ skin.

“Hmm, most definitely,” Stiles says softly, sleep taking over him.

“I love you,” Derek says to the Omega.

“Love, you,” Stiles mumbles back, his breathing evening out. Derek smiles softly, pressing even closer and letting him guard down as sleep rolls over him.

**End.**

 

~*~

 

Excerpt from the next part **The Demands of Politics**

_Two Months Later_

Stiles shifts restlessly, something drawing him from his slumber. Opening his eyes, he can see faint sunlight peeking through his widows from behind his drapes. A warm form is pressed up behind him, keeping away the early morning chill now that the fire has died down. Stiles feels Derek’s hand drawing abstract patterns over his stomach. That was what woke him up.

Stiles turns over in the circle of his mate’s arms, smiling at him. Derek’s hair is a bird’s nest with half of it flat and the rest sticking up at odd angles. “Good morning,” Stiles says softly.

“Morning,” Derek says, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips.

“You know, that is very distracting,” Stiles says, meaning Derek’s caressing fingers.

Derek hums, pressing forward to bury his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck, breathing deeply. “I can smell it,” Derek mutters.

“What, body odor?” Stiles asks.

“I can smell your scent changing,” Derek says, sounding a little drunk. “It’s faint, but it’s there, the scent of pregnancy.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asks, pulling back to look at him. Derek nods, pressing back into Stiles’ neck to keep breathing him in. “Well, that’s good news. When Laura and Allison arrive in the next couple of days, we’ll have to break the news. Though, I’m still confused by their letters. They were really shifty about why they were coming so suddenly and without much notice.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Derek mutters. Stiles sighs and nods, relaxing back into the bed and letting Derek’s fingers loll him into a half doze.

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> For those who might be wondering what age everyone is:
> 
> ~*~
> 
> Derek: 21 (19 when Kate happens)
> 
> Laura: 25 (23 when Kate happens)
> 
> Stiles: 17
> 
> Lydia: 17
> 
> Allison: 18
> 
> Danny: 19
> 
> Isaac: 16 (Derek's 3rd Bite.)
> 
> Jackson: 19 (Derek's 2nd Bite.)
> 
> Scott: 19 (In this Scott is turned by Derek, not Peter. He is Derek's 1st Bite.)
> 
> Kate: 30 (28 when she kills the Hale parents)
> 
> Deaton: he's his late 30s early 40s. I don't really feel like giving him an exact age, lols.
> 
> Boyd: 19 (Derek's 5th Bite.)
> 
> Erica: 19 (Derek's 4th Bite.)
> 
> Alpha Pack: All between 25 and 40, also don't feel like giving specific age. Twins are older here than in the show.
> 
> Melissa: In her 40s.
> 
> Cora: 17 (just so you guys know, she's been in hiding throughout the fic as a precaution set by Laura in case something happened to Derek, since she would be the next heir to the throne.)
> 
> ~*~
> 
> I'll update this as more characters come in.
> 
> ~*~
> 
> Comment and kudos always make me happy. :)


End file.
